


Repulsive

by Antecanis



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: A whole lot of angst, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Parent/Child Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-01
Updated: 2016-10-02
Packaged: 2018-07-10 09:38:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 41,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6978097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Antecanis/pseuds/Antecanis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Haytham and Ziio decide to move in together again, thirteen-year old Connor is more than happy to be able to see his beloved father every day. However, his growing affection causes a misunderstanding that will change the course of his life for years to come. And in those years Connor tries to overcome not only this burden but also the lingering desire for Haytham, who struggles to do the right thing…</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Infected

**Author's Note:**

> After an amazing RP chat on omegle with the lovely Q I drafted this - and finally got around to write it. (there are so many ConHayth drafts still waiting to be attacked... *sigh)  
> Again, it got so much longer than anticipated... :'D I really hope you find this enjoyably angsty. So much drama!

“How was school, honey?”  
Connor shrugged and continued to eat the pancakes his mother had prepared, while she rummaged around in the kitchen; throwing away old groceries that were way past their expiry date. Most of the kitchen supplies were already safely packed in large boxes labelled _kitchen_ and stood alongside all the other boxes that had accumulated in their apartment. Piece by piece, everything was made ready for the big day.  
“Mrs. Wagner called, you know? She asked if you wanted to go fishing with Richard and the boys this weekend. I said that it’s a great idea. Your friend Des is coming, too.”  
“But Mom!”, Connor protested, putting down his fork. “Not this weekend!”  
“It’s just getting chaotic here, Connor. You’re not missing out on anything, I promise. We just bring the boxes over to the house and that’s it. You can unpack when you come back.”  
“But I wanted to see Dad!”  
Ziio turned around and smiled; brushing a strand of her black hair behind an ear. “Honey, we’ll live together. You’re gonna see him every day.”  
Crossing his arms, Connor still wasn’t satisfied. “I don’t wanna go.”, he mumbled, making a face.  
“You know what? I’ll tell Haytham to pick you up Sunday morning, alright? Then you two can get breakfast on your way to our new home, yeah?”  
Brightening up slightly, Connor was still annoyed but finally agreed.

“Dad!”  
Running towards his father with the brightest smile, Connor flung his arms around the other and was lifted up in the air; hugged tightly as he pressed a kiss to Haytham’s cheek.  
“Hey Connor.” Haytham said with a grin, putting the boy back to his feet. “How was your weekend? Caught any fish?”  
Connor still held tightly onto his father and just liked everything about him; his smell, how strong he was, his voice; how he always hugged him back, how he always took his time to explain whatever Connor wanted to know; never ignoring one question, no matter how foolish it might turn out to be… Before Ziio had told him that the three of them would soon live together, Connor had only seen his father once in a while; he had never stayed over at his Dad’s and only knew that his parents had split up when he was four years old. He was happy about the prospect of living together; especially since he could spend more time with Haytham.  
Eventually letting go, Connor beamed at his father, who stood up again and smiled down at the boy. Connor just shrugged as an answer to the questions and hurried to pick up his backpack from the porch.  
“So, I’ve heard the two of us are free to get breakfast?”, Haytham remarked as Connor stormed back towards him.  
Nodding intensely, Connor only turned back shortly to wave at the Wagner family and his friends before he followed his father to the car. He still couldn’t believe that he was about to live with Haytham; that he would be able to see him every day.  
When they were seated, the older man turned towards the boy and Connor wondered why he always felt so weird when Haytham looked at him.  
“Any specific place you wanted to have breakfast at?”  
Connor shrugged, returning the gaze wordlessly.  
“We can just stop by the first diner we come across.”  
“Okay.”, Connor mumbled, fastening his seatbelt and thinking about how this would be the start of an amazing time.

The next weeks were almost as amazing as Connor had imagined them to be; slightly chaotic but filled with a lot of time he could indeed spend with his father.  
Haytham would bring him to school every morning; he played baseball or soccer with him in their garden, took him to see movies and helped with homework whenever Connor asked. However, the boy still knew that there was something between his parents that didn’t quite work out. Not only had they separate bedrooms, but they didn’t seem to interact much in general. Whenever there was something planned, Connor would either go with his mother, or his father, never the three of them together. It didn’t bother Connor much since they were also not fighting, and he could have their sole attention whenever he spent time with one of them, but it seemed odd after all.  
In the following winter he forgot about this vague worry of his’ and just dived into all the winterly fun this season had to offer; building snowmen, having snowball fights with his friends and hot chocolate afterwards; sometimes watching a movie in the evening with his father, cuddled close to him with a blanket and just feeling very safe and loved. It didn’t cross his mind that this whole idyll was all too fragile.

During March preceding Connor’s fourteenth birthday, he had caught a cold. He was staying at home for a few days, and after he had slept through the first day, he woke up in the evening all by himself in his room.  
It was already dark outside, and when he looked at his alarm clock on the nightstand, it read almost midnight. Sleepily getting up, he coughed and wondered if his parents were still up. Silently, he left his room and listened to the quiet house. He wished it could always be like this; living with the two of them and knowing that they were there for him.  
When he got upstairs, he could see light in his father’s bedroom, while the small space beneath his mother’s door was as dark as the hallway.  
Connor knocked hesitantly, and after a moment of silence, he could hear Haytham’s voice. “Yes?”  
The boy opened the door and peeked into the room. His father was sitting in his bed, his laptop in front of him; apparently still working. Haytham smiled when he saw Connor’s dark thatch. “Ah, you woke up. Do you feel better now? Need anything?”  
Stepping into the room, Connor smiled back. “I was just feeling alone. Can I stay here for a bit?”  
“Sure.”, Haytham answered, seemingly not even surprised. He patted the space next to him and Connor happily obliged; closing the door behind him before he slipped beneath his father’s blanket and sat next to him. His father reached out for him and rested a hand on his forehead. Connor’s heart was beating fast at the touch, and he wordlessly gazed at the other.  
After a moment, his father pulled his hand away and gave a pleased hum. “Your fever has gone down. You should be up and running again in a few days.”  
Giving a brief smile, Haytham returned his attention toward the laptop again and Connor tried to calm down his heart before he asked, “Are you working?”  
“Yes. Just a few figures I’ve to sort through. Boring stuff, really.”  
Connor made a vague noise of understanding and leaned against his father; actually still feeling tired. For a while he just remained like this; enjoying the pleasant warmth and the company of his father.  
“Why do you have separate bedrooms? You and Mom?”  
Glancing down at his son, Haytham tried to smile but seemed to fail. “Well…”, he started. “We’re here because of you, you know? Because we thought it would be better for you if we were both around. It’s just… Your Mom and me, we… we still like each other, you know that. But people only share a bedroom if they really loved each other.”  
There was a moment of silence and Connor wondered why his parents didn’t love each other like that anymore; or if they maybe never had.  
“If I was Mom, I’d sleep with you every night.”  
He could see the corners of his father’s mouth twitching as if he tried to hide his laughter; and after a second Connor had an idea what could be so funny about his remark.  
“I mean…” He blushed. “I’d sleep here. Next to you.”  
The smile found its way onto Haytham’s lips and he reached out to ruffle his son’s raven hair. “Yeah. It’s nice to have company, huh?”  
Nodding slightly, Connor hoped the red of his cheeks would fade soon; but it wasn’t quite out of his head yet; if he was Mom… he’d sleep here, yes, but he would also sleep with him, wouldn’t he? Wouldn’t it be the nicest thing to be able to be so close?  
His idea of a man and a woman sleeping with each other was a bit blurry; pieced together what he had learned in school, what Ziio had explained and what his friends had shown him in secret magazines they had stolen from their dads. Connor wondered if Haytham possessed things like that as well; it had never crossed his mind that his father could like looking at such pictures; he just didn’t seem like it. Suddenly he felt rather sad; he couldn’t be with his father like that; ever. Not only was he just a kid for the time being – and Haytham’s kid after all, but he was also a boy and not a girl.  
Giving in to this sudden trail of thoughts, he asked, “Dad?”  
“Mh?” Haytham had started typing on his laptop again and only looked up after a moment.  
“Can two men also sleep with each other when they really love one another?”  
Raising his brows, Connor’s father seemed surprised, even though not terribly so.  
“You mean next to each other?” There was a good-humored smile playing around the corners of his mouth, and Connor was slightly annoyed.  
“No, you know what I mean.”, he brought out, embarrassed.  
“Sure they can.”  
“But they can’t have babies.”  
“They can’t. So, I’m glad your Mom’s not a man and I got to meet you .” He winked and Connor’s heart seemed to stop for a moment. He wrapped his arms tightly around his father’s waist and pressed his face into his shirt.  
He could feel how Haytham patted his head, and he wished he could just stay like this forever.  
“Speaking of which… I wondered if there was anything specific you wanted for your birthday?”  
Lifting his head up again, Connor wanted to say _I want to be the only one for you_ but instead he said, “Can we go camping?”  
Haytham gave an intrigued hum and answered, “Sure, if that’s what you’d like. I’ll see if I can take off the weekend after your birthday, so we could drive someplace. You could show me your mad climbing skills and I’ll show you how to shoot a bow. Deal?”  
“Yeah!”, Connor brought out happily; snuggling close again and just admiring how warm and good it felt right next to his father; hoping Haytham didn’t think he was childish for keeping so close to him. He was aware that his reasons for seeking his father’s proximity were not childish at all; that they were more mature than he himself fully understood, even if Haytham couldn’t see or suspect it.

Connor’s birthday came and after the obligatory birthday party with his friends from school, the anticipated camping weekend with his father was there.  
For days it was all Connor could really think about; it was the first time for them to spend that much quality time together.  
His mother had given him a duffel bag to pack his things; hinting that she would do it for him if he wanted her to, but he was all too happy to prepare it himself. Of course, she checked in with him; making sure he hadn’t forgotten his rain coat, underwear and socks.  
Everything was already prepared when Connor came home from school on Friday; running half of the way to get there a few minutes earlier.  
“I’m home!”, he shouted as he opened the front door and stormed into their house.  
There was silence and for a second his heart sank; maybe Haytham couldn’t get the weekend off after all, maybe he wasn’t in the mood, maybe…  
Then his father stepped into the hallway; smiling and carrying their tent. “Hey, you’re home early. Care to help me get everything in the car?”  
“Yeah!” Connor was beaming at his father and just carelessly threw his backpack into some corner as he held out his arms and was handed the heavy bag with the tent.  
“There you go. I’ll get our food supplies.”, Haytham said with a wink and vanished back into the kitchen.  
 The boy stumbled into the garage and found the trunk of his father’s SUV opened so he only had to put the tent in. There was already his’ and his father’s duffel bag; next to some box that looked like it could contain the promised bow. Haytham entered the garage with a cooler and a card box full of groceries; putting them on the back seat and then checking the time.  
“Go and say bye to your Mom, I guess we can start whenever you’re ready.”  
Connor stormed off looking for Ziio; being impatient as never before. Eventually he found her in her in her room; folding laundry as he entered.  
She looked up and mustered a smile; asking, “Are you leaving already? Don’t you want a little something to eat before you go?”  
Connor shook his head and stepped forward to give his mother a hug. She ruffled through his hair and looked at him as they pulled apart. “You’ve gotten really big, Ratonhnhaké:ton.”, she remarked with a sigh; seemingly troubled by that observation. “Take care of yourself, will you? And make sure that… Ah, just have fun, alright, honey?”  
Nodding with a big smile, Connor waved goodbye and was already hurrying back down.

The drive upstate took longer than Connor had thought; but it didn’t seem too bad. He told his father all the news from school that he could think of and for some time they listened to the radio. One time they stopped to grab something to eat at a small diner; and Connor was happy to have his father all by himself for this long time. A light rain was falling, and the weather forecast for the weekend also didn’t seem to have anything else in store than rain. However, Haytham had agreed that they would still do everything like they had planned, and would enjoy their short trip together.  
“Why don’t you and Mom love each other a lot anymore?”, Connor asked after they had driven in silence for a while. The rain was constantly tapping against the windshield, and Haytham was concentrated on the street.  
He gave a mixture of hum and sigh before he answered; indicating that this question wasn’t easy to answer. “Well, I suppose you’re old enough for me to be honest about it.”, he remarked, and Connor nodded as Haytham glanced at him before his eyes returned to the street in front of them.  
“It’s my fault, really. I had an affair with my assistant at work. Your mother left me after that.” For a moment it seemed as if he would continue speaking, but he remained silent.  
“Why? I mean… why did you have the, uh, affair?”, Connor asked, fiddling with his seatbelt as he tried imagining how this assistant looked like; of course the image of some blonde lady popped up in his mind; seducing his father.  
Giving another sigh and a crooked smile, Haytham only reluctantly answered. “That’s… that’s a tough question, I reckon. Maybe I couldn’t see myself as being a husband and father; or… I thought he could give me something your mother couldn’t. It’s all no apology, though.”  
“He?”  
“My assistant.”  
There was a long pause as Connor let the information sink in. He thought about the conversation he had had with his father earlier that year; about men also being together like that. Somehow, this information relieved Connor; knowing his father’s affair wasn’t the generic blonde lady, or knowing that his father...  
“Okay.”, he said.  
“Okay?” Glancing at his son, Haytham couldn’t hide a small grin. “You surely don’t approve of that?”  
Shrugging, Connor said, “I don’t really know about that stuff. I think it wasn’t nice of you, you know? I bet Mom was really angry. But… I’m just glad you’re here now.”  
Smiling, Haytham reached out and squeezed Connor’s shoulder. “Me too, Connor.”

The property on which Haytham had chosen they would camp was, as he said, owned by the company he was working for, and hence they were on their own. For Friday there was nothing much else planned than getting the tent set up, and making a campfire.  
They sat next to each other in front of the latter and held marshmallows into the greedy flames as Haytham told him about his own childhood; and how his father had taught him many things. The rain had subsided for the evening, but dark clouds still covered the sky and promised more rain for the next day.  
That first night Connor couldn’t sleep for a long time. He was lying in his sleeping bag; and even though it wasn’t cold, he craved for more warmth. Haytham was sleeping an arm’s length away, and the boy could hear his father’s steady breath along with the sounds of the forest surrounding them. There was some urge inside of him that he couldn’t quite understand; it was something that seemed to be able to drive him crazy if he didn’t give in; but what that would mean, Connor didn’t know. Eventually he fell asleep; vaguely wondering why he didn’t understand himself anymore.

Saturday brought more rain and more clouds, but neither Connor nor Haytham would have admitted to be bothered by it. They had gotten up early in the morning, and after their breakfast Connor had put on his brand new climbing gloves that his mother had given him for his birthday, and Haytham brought the bow.  
The hours went by fast; and as much as Connor wished to fall off a tree just to land in his father’s arms, he wanted to impress him and keep going. Only when his hands started to ache, he came down to let Haytham show him how to shoot a bow.

That evening, after eating in the car because it was pouring so much outside, Connor lay awake as he had the previous evening; listening to the rain and the distant rumbling of thunder. They would return home on Sunday evening, and the boy’s heart was heavy as he thought about this being the last night of their camping trip.  
“It’s really cold, Dad. Can I… uh, sleep in your sleeping bag as well?”, he asked quietly, not even being sure that his father was still awake.  
Giving a sleepy sound, Haytham wordlessly unzipped his bag and held it open for Connor to slip in. The boy struggled to get out of his own bag and eventually cuddled close to his father; entering the warmth in his sleeping bag. It was tight but comfortable, and he muttered, “Thanks. It’s really warm.”  
Haytham gave just another hum, apparently exhausted by the day and only half-awake.  
Connor stayed awake for a while longer; just enjoying the warmth and closeness; wishing he was older and knew more about love and all of that; it seemed so sad to only be close with lies like this; and even then, it didn’t seem close enough.

Sunday, too, passed way too fast for Connor’s taste, and before long they sat in the car, driving back home.  
“It was really nice, you know?”, the boy remarked after a while, looking out into the darkness. He felt sad, even though he had had one of the best weekends of his life.  
“Yes, it certainly was.”, Haytham agreed with a warm tone to his voice.  
“Can we do that again some time?”  
“Sure. Maybe during summer then. It’s probably nicer to be out and about then, even though the rain wasn’t too bad.”  
Connor just gave an affirming hum; tiredness luring his thoughts in weird directions. Overall, he wasn't in a particular good mood. Somehow this whole trip had confused him; the closeness to his father as well as being aware that somehow he wasn’t a boy anymore but not knowing anything about what it meant to be mature. Sighing, he closed his eyes and just hoped there was a sign maybe; something to show him what to do and how to feel.

The days following their trip felt strange to Connor; he felt different than before and didn’t even know why. His bad mood stayed, and Ziio even asked him if something had happened during their trip.  
“No”, he had answered to that, but he wasn’t even sure that was the truth.  
He caught himself just lying in bed and wishing his father would come in and explain to him what was wrong; why he was in such a constant bad mood all the time. He felt lonely at night, wishing he could just get upstairs and sleep next to Haytham like that one time months ago. But somehow he didn’t dare to.

Then, one night, he had a dream that helped him understand his troubles. It was a dream about their camping trip, and Connor slept in his father’s sleeping bag like he really had. However, this time, Haytham embraced him and kissed his neck; rubbing his erection against Connor’s ass and telling him that he, Connor, would always be the only one. His father’s hand ran over his body and caressed the boy’s private parts; making him feel better than any time Connor had touched himself.  _I love you_ , Haytham said in the dream and Connor could almost feel his heart bursting.  
When his alarm sounded, Connor sat up in bed; for a moment confused about his mind being like that; coming up with that. But then he realized that this was exactly what he wanted. Maybe not now, but when he was a bit older; not just a kid anymore.  
Both feeling slightly embarrassed and happy at the same time, he searched for his neglected diary, and started to write,  
“When we were camping and I slept in Dad’s sleeping bag, I could feel his big you know rubbing against my butt. Maybe I asked him about it, because he then said it was because he really loves me and that I am the only one for him. And that he will wait until I’m a man until we sleep with each other every night because we love each other a lot. But he then also touched mine until it was like when I touch it and it felt really good. And he said it will feel even more good when we really sleep together. And he kissed me a lot on the mouth and he hugged me really tight. I felt really loved and I want to grow up soon. I’m writing this down to remind me of it.”

Connor was in an excellent mood that very day, somehow thinking that the dream might be a sign and Haytham could one day look at him like this, despite the fact that they were father and son; it wouldn’t be the first time for him to fall for a man. Of course, Connor would have to wait until he was older, but then... When Haytham dropped him off in front of the school, Connor even dared to lean over and press just the lightest kiss to his father's cheek before he left the car and waved before he disappeared into the building.  
With veiled arrogance he looked at his peers; they were thinking about girls, or started to have an interest in them; but Connor already knew what and who he wanted. No need to look at explicit pictures or play some pranks on the girls in class. That day, he shortly felt invincible; content with who he was and confident that somehow it would all work out.

His step was light when he walked home; humming some invented melody as he indulged in memories of the dream. That distant feeling of being loved and longed for was still lingering in his heart, and he wished it would never go away.  
When he unlocked the front door, he could hear loud voices from the living room, and when he got closer, he could hear his mother’s sharp voice.  
"You infected him with whatever's wrong with you!"  
"There's nothing wrong with me, Ziio!", Haytham shouted in response, and Connor had never heard him this angry. With weak knees the boy walked closer, but didn’t dare to enter. He wondered what they were arguing about. It must be something serious, he figured, since they had never done it before.  
"I should've known!”, Ziio shouted, and sobs disrupted her words. “I never should've listened to you when you said we should move in together for Connor's sake...! After you fucked that other boy, I should've known!"  
"Oh, for fuck's sake! That _boy_ was twenty-eight when we had the affair ten years ago! Are you even listening to yourself? Yes, I made a mistake back then and I'm sorry, okay? How often do I have to apologize to you until you believe me? But heavens! That doesn't mean I molested our fourteen-year old son! How can you seriously think I touched him!"  
Ice water ran through Connor’s body and for a moment he thought he would just be swallowed up by the earth.  
"Oh, as if you only fucked some man that one time, I know you, Haytham, I-"  
Opening the door, Connor looked at them with teary eyes; his heart beating hard in his chest. Was this really about him? "Mom...? What's going on?"  
"Oh, honey!" Ziio, who had been standing at the window, came immediately over to pull Connor into her arms. "I’m so sorry, Ratonhnhaké:ton, so sorry… Don't you worry, I'll protect you. I'm so sorry this happened to you!" When she pulled away, she searched for Connor's eyes, and he could see that her eyes were red and swollen, as if she had cried for hours already.  
"But Dad didn't...", Connor started, his voice breaking up.  
"No, honey, don't bother making up any excuses for what your father did. It was wrong-"  
"Oh, for heaven's sake! Listen to him! I didn't do anything to our son!", Haytham interrupted in a defeated yet angry tone; his arms crossed as he leaned against the wall.  
"Don’t listen to him. It is _wrong_ , do you understand, Connor?"  
Tears were stinging in Connor's eyes as he glanced back at his father, who looked pale and tired. He had made them fight, because of what he had written in his diary. Not only was he embarrassed, but his mother's words were now etched into his heart. How could something that had made him so happy be wrong?  
"It is a repulsive thing. It's disgusting. It's wrong. You have to understand that, Connor. There is no excuse for this, and don't believe him when he says he loves you, because it's just lies. He wouldn't do that to you if he really loved you."  
"Christ, Ziio, stop telling him that. Connor, tell her that I didn't touch you like that. Go ahead."  
Before Connor could do so, his mother hissed back at Haytham, angrily saying, "Don't you dare! Don't you dare forcing him into saying you didn't do it! What are you saying? That he invented it? Damn, Haytham, as if he could even think of something disgusting like this; let alone lie about what happened. My son is not a liar."  
“But Mom, I…” Now Connor couldn't keep the tears from flowing anymore; he was crying and felt worse than any other time in his life before. This was his fault, he was the wrong one. The repulsive one. _Disgusting!_ it echoed in his mind. _Repulsive. Wrong._  
“Oh, honey… sh, it’s okay.”  
The next thing he knew was that he was being dragged away by Ziio; taking a seat in a cab with his mother, still crying; embarrassed and feeling sorry that he had brought this upon his father.  
Ziio was holding his hand and at some point Connor pulled it away, hugging himself and thinking that his mother wouldn't want to touch him if she knew that this was his doing; that he was filthy and disgusting.  
When they arrived at some motor inn, and Ziio had led him to their room, his first stop was the bathroom, where he desperately tried to wash himself, wishing he could feel better then; cleaner, less guilty.

When he exited to bathroom long minutes later, he felt slightly better, but his head hurt from crying, and he was exhausted. Only now he realized that Ziio had apparently packed before she had gotten into the fight with Haytham, because a duffel bag with his clothes and his school books were lying on one of the beds in the motel.  
Ziio was sitting on top of the other; looking through a telephone book with their room’s phone next to her.  
"Mom, when are we going back?", he asked in a small voice.  
She put down the telephone book and looked at him with pity.  
"Connor, we're not going back. After this you can't be around your father."  
Tears welled up again, and he tried to swallow them down along with the anxiety making him feel dizzy.  
"Is... is Dad angry at me?"  
"Oh, sweetie, no! No... you should be angry at _him_. You have to understand that it was wrong of him to... to touch you in that way, okay? Come here."  
Hesitantly stepping closer, Connor bowed his head; his heavy heart throbbing with shame and regret.  
"You know, I changed so much when I had you. I'll protect you no matter what. I want you to be happy, Ratonhnhaké:ton; and-" She reached out for Connor's hand, but the boy shied away as if he had been about to be burned.  
He could see the shock in Ziio's eyes and he wished he was different; innocent and _clean_.  
"Oh, honey... it's alright. Come here. He's not gonna touch you ever again, okay? Don't be afraid. You're safe now."  
But Connor backed away, hugging himself as he denied her the embrace; very well remembering how his mother had talked about him being infected.  
“Don’t touch me!”, he let out as he turned around and locked himself in the bathroom; desperately trying to wash away that _infection_ ; that dirt on his hands.


	2. Goodbye

The house was silent when Connor stepped out of his room.  
He stood there for a moment; just listening to the nothingness surrounding him; feeling slightly more at ease now that his father had left for some business brunch he had mentioned during breakfast. It was Saturday, and Connor was glad to have the house to himself for a couple of hours. The sun was pale that day and the soft light that flooded the house made everything seem diffuse; almost superlunary; giving a false shine to dark things and gloomy thoughts.  
Taking a deep breath, the young man fiddled with his gloves and slowly made his way upstairs towards the bathroom; ignoring that faint aching of his heart; the strings within him that seemed to be pulled whenever he walked these very stairs that had carried him years ago, when he was still half a child.  
Hesitantly, he stopped to catch a glimpse of his father's bedroom; a sight which always made his heart ache. Opening the door carefully as if there was anyone he might disturb, he watched the dust dance in the heavy rays of sunlight making their way through the thin curtains.  
It was the only room that hadn't changed in those past three years. While Ziio's former bedroom was now his father's study; and both kitchen and living room were different and Connor's old room had been a guest room until he had moved back in, this was exactly the same; with the same pictures on the wall, the same bed that Connor had slept in once, the same shelves with the same books and their faded covers. With a pained sigh he thought of that one night he had spent in this very room; back when his world had been childishly complete. Now, Ziio was dead, he was lonely and estranged from Haytham, whom he couldn't look in the eye; afraid of his own repulsive nature to show; afraid to let his father see who he really was; just hoping Haytham could forget about that thing Connor had written in his diary; that repulsive thing that had destroyed everything... Could see Connor as Ziio had; as something pure and worthy of protection.  
Yes, everything was different now. After Ziio had lost her life in a fire in their apartment building, Connor had been forced to move in with his father again; to whom he hadn't talked in almost two years due to his mother's belief that Haytham had touched their son; no matter how often Connor had tried to shyly explain to her that Dad hadn't done anything to him. She had refused to believe that; rather drawing a direct link between her ex-husband's unfaithfulness and him abusing their son than accepting the fact that her fourteen-year old son could fantasize about being with his own father. At one point, Connor had stopped trying and he still felt guilty about it. He couldn’t imagine how it must’ve been for his father to hear those allegations while he had never done anything wrong; while he must have known that it was Connor’s fault all along. But for the boy it soon was a truth he tried to forget; to maybe feel _cleaner_ when he pretended to be the pure child his mother saw. It never worked out.  
Clenching his jaw, Connor averted his gaze from the room; all too vividly recalling the guilt and the self-disgust whenever he overheard one of those phone calls between his parents every so often.  
_“-no, of course you can’t see him! – No, I – He’s – He’s sick because of you! The poor child is washing himself constantly and you don’t need a shrink to understand it’s because of what you – I don’t want to hear that. You can be happy I’m not dragging you to court, which is just for the boy’s sake, just to be clear – I can imagine your lawyers dragging him out there and accusing him of being a liar – You manipulated him so much that – He still denies your horrible – Yes, he says you didn’t – No, it’s_ obvious _what really happened; his hands are_ bloody _from the washing – He must feel so filthy after you – “_ , Ziio’s voice had been sharp; her words hateful and accompanied by an anger that had made Connor feel sick because he knew it was all his fault. He didn’t want to see his father anymore; he was afraid of how Haytham would look at him after all that had happened; after what Connor had done.  
And then – when the world once again decided to pull the rug from under his feet – Ziio had died. Only two days after losing her and all their belongings, he was forced to move in with Haytham again; trembling because he was afraid of his own mind being unable to leave the past behind; to come up with those repulsive ideas again –  
Shaking his head, Connor opened the bathroom door and got ready to take another shower. He pulled off the gloves just to put on some plastic ones; he got rid of his clothing and pulled off his plastic shoe covers, his socks, and put on his upper bathroom flip flops before he entered the shower.  
He was seventeen now, and his obsessive behavior regarding hygiene had only worsened after he had moved back in with Haytham. At first, he had been confident to be able to just see the other as his father; to shake off that desire from his past; the shameful longing that had led to catastrophe. But the more he banned this from his thoughts, the more it popped up in his dreams; torturing him with the sweet promise of love; of something that made him feel good and loved, and above all, clean. However, when he awoke from such images, those emotions faded to him feeling worse; to him watching his father with guilt and keeping the boy from talking to him about anything. Connor knew that Haytham didn’t know how to act around him anymore; whatever ease had existed between them once was gone, and none of Haytham’s countless attempts to reconnect with his son could change that.  
When it had gotten worse with his dreams and they had haunted him night by night, the young man had decided to give in to those thoughts just for a moment; take that longing and banish it from the nights.  
The shower seemed like the right place to be doing it; at least he could wash himself afterwards; could allow it just this one time a day and then be done with it; take that despicable desire its sharp sting.  
Avoiding the thought of what he was about to do, he leaned against the tiles he had cleaned earlier that day like always, and took a deep breath. He hated to be subjected to his own longing; unable to put an end to it. He hated to be helpless against it. The washing was at least something active; something that helped him to get through the day.  
If everything was different… His gloved hand trailed the defined curve of his chest and caressed the taut flesh beneath his fingertips; for now allowing himself to believe it was his father's hand wandering over his skin. He imagined how he would enter his father’s bedroom in the evening; how Haytham would be sleepy but still awake, maybe asking if there was something wrong… The young man closed his eyes and tried to picture it vividly as his hand wandered knowingly over the bronze skin; danced over his curves and bones with an ache accompanying every movement; an ache that only stemmed from the knowledge that him fantasizing like this was wrong; stupid even; knowing that it would never be like that. There’s nothing wrong, father, he would say and pull off his shirt languidly. He imagined Haytham’s expression to be both surprised and aroused; to look at him with want; loot at his son's youthful and strong body... Then he would step closer, get rid of his shorts and climb onto the bed… He gave a soft sound as he gave his half-hard cock gentle strokes, trying to keep the guilt of what he was doing away for now so he could just… get it over with.  
He would sit on top of his father, feel the other’s erection under his ass and rub it just to hear his father’s pleasured voice. He would be prepared; would have fucked himself in the shower so he would be ready. In his fantasy, Haytham would just take him raw; there wouldn’t be anything separating them. It was an almost brutal thought for Connor, who couldn’t bear anyone’s touch; who couldn’t even touch an undisinfected surface with his bare hands.  
His childish wish to be the only one for his father had turned into an active, almost violent urge inside of him; a desire to monopolize him and fuck him until he wouldn't ever look at anyone else. It was a dark part that Connor wished wasn't there; something feral and jealous that he was glad his mother hadn't ever seen; that Ziio had chosen to only see it within Haytham.  
He hated this filthy, sexual part of him and at the same time he couldn't deny that it was there and had some power over him; that the one fantasy getting him to climax faster than any other was the one in which Haytham just took him raw; tainted him so he would never be able to clean himself…  
Gasping, he came. For a second he stayed as he was; then an angry sob escaped his throat and he softly banged the back of his head against the tiles; just so much it slightly hurt.  
Turning on the shower, he started his washing routine.

“How was practice yesterday?”  
Connor kept his eyes on the meal in front of him; trying not to look at his father sitting opposite of him. He shrugged, a lump in his throat keeping him from talking.  
He had joined his high school's sprinting team a few months back and was now three days a week practicing. As a boy, he had always pictured himself as a football guy, but now he couldn't bear the thought of coming in contact with the other players. This was certainly no problem with the sprinters, and even though he wasn't the fastest of them, it had been easy to join the team. Their coach was into teenage boys; that was an open secret, and it was even rumored that he had had an affair with one of his students once. Hence the team of boys was rather small, which didn't bother Connor. For him it wasn't about winning competitions anyway; he just liked the feeling of running until he was exhausted; running away from who he was and how his life looked like now; from the self he didn’t want to be.  
“I, uh, was wondering what you wanted for your birthday.”  
Now, Connor looked up in surprise before he could stop himself. It wasn’t even Haytham’s birthday yet, and thus this question seemed a bit too early. The young man immediately thought back to that year he had lived with his father before; the camping trip that had ruined everything… He looked into his father’s grey eyes but couldn’t tell what he was thinking.  
“I don’t know.” Connor’s voice was quiet as he spoke, his gaze returning to the plate in front of him. “But… anything _you_ wanted for your birthday?”  
There was a moment of silence, until Haytham answered. “Well… I’ll think about it.”  
Connor nodded.  
“I was thinking if we could talk…” Haytham’s voice sounded determined yet it had an air of unwillingness about it; and the young man thought he knew where this was going. Maybe he wasn’t the only one thinking back to that camping trip and what it had caused in its aftermath…  
“Maybe some other time, ok? I’ll head to bed. I’m tired.”, he said and got up; placing his half-emptied plate on the kitchen counter before he hurried to his bedroom; making sure not to look at his father.  
Sighing, he closed the door and leaned against it. For a moment he listened to the sounds around him; the sound of cars passing by their house, the wind faintly howling as if practicing for the storms to come, and the noise from the kitchen as Haytham cleaned up.  
Connor pictured him annoyed; not used to someone just walking away from him, not following his orders, not obeying his demands. Closing his eyes, he wished to annoy him more; up to a point where there was no escape for the two of them; just getting into a fistfight to settle the tension once and for all…  
Groaning, the young man shook his head. “No, no…”, he muttered, reaching for a clean pair of gloves to change into; throwing the old ones away. “No more fantasies.”, he muttered under his breath. “Done with that today. _Done._ ”  
Letting himself fall onto the bed, he sighed. “Fuck.”  
_“Bend over the table.” “Kneel.” “Strip.” "Beg."_ Haytham’s voice echoed in his mind; a dark purr with his British drawl pouring right into Connor’s heart.  
It’s the hormones, he told himself. I’m just reacting to me being a teenager; I just don’t have many friends; I don’t have a girlfriend; that’s why my body just chooses anyone to be my partner in my fantasies; just because I loved him so much when I was a kid…  
Lying there, he hugged himself and thought about that maybe being the truth; it being the ticket out of this misery.  
Maybe he just needed to have sex.

A few days before Haytham’s birthday, Connor was about to realize his plan; his great plan to get rid of his weird attraction once and for all; to get rid of that feeling of being repulsive; that desire to monopolize his father and finally be able to be normal around him.  
“…okay?”  
He looked up from his lunch and realized that Haytham had said something and apparently waited for approval. It was probably another evening that he would be working late; as so very often lately. But that only worked in Connor’s favor and thus he said, “Okay.”  
That day his step was light when he went to sprinting practice. Setting a new personal best time, he got his hopes up that maybe this would truly _cure_ him.  
Only when everyone had left, Connor headed for the shower. His knees were weak and his heart was thudding heavily in his chest; his feet wanting to turn around.  
He washed himself, and then he prepared everything.  
“Hello? There still someone here?”  
_Not a victim of my desires anymore,_ Connor thought as he swallowed heavily.  
“I’m still here, coach.” His voice didn’t waver; or maybe just a bit…  
“Connor, is that you?” The steps came hesitantly closer.  
_Not a weirdo anymore._  
“Yes...”  
_Sometimes you have to do something bad in order to prevent yourself from doing something worse._  
“Can you come over, coach?”  
“What’s the matter?”  
When Connor turned around, he could see the other’s reaction; being a mixture of surprise and interest when he saw the naked young man in front of him; a hand against the tiles and his back temptingly revealed.  
“I want you.”, Connor said and he felt like he had to retch.  
“What? Wait, Connor – I – I can’t, uh… It’s against – “  
But the other’s stuttering betrayed his words and when Connor reached around himself with his fingers covered with plastic gloves and pushed into himself, he could feel the other’s breath being caught in his throat.  
“I’ve already prepared myself, coach… There are condoms; right on the edge of the stall… and lotion you can use as lube. And gloves, because… you know I don’t like being touched.”  
“Connor… _I can’t…_ ”  
The young man turned away to look at the tiles as he pulled his finger from himself. He knew he had him.  
“Take me. Just this once.”  
Closing his eyes, he swallowed hard as he could hear the other unbuckle his belt. He could hear the zipper, but all he felt was dizzy and sick. It’s gonna be okay, he told himself. This will help me realize I don’t really wanna fuck my Daddy. It’s gonna be okay…  
“Didn’t think you were like this.” Connor could hear the coach’s breathy voice and he shuddered with disgust. “You doing this… uh, often?”  
“All the time.”, Connor brought out, the nausea in his stomach making him sick. Taking a few deep breaths, he just listened to the condom wrapper being ripped open and while his whole body was shaking in panic, he still didn’t move; presenting himself to the other.  
“Ah, shit, this is not gonna get me in trouble, is it?”  
“No”, Connor said, his voice wavering.  
Then, he could feel gloved fingers on his ass and for a second he thought he would faint from disgust. But he stood there with weak knees; enduring it; holding onto the tiles so he wouldn't stumble to his knees.  
Two fingers were shoved inside of him, and he gave a soft gasp.  
“You _really_ prepared yourself, huh? Shit, boy… so erotic. Went in so smoothly. You gonna swallow me up real good, huh?”  
Taking a deep breath, Connor fought the nausea flipping his stomach. “Yeah”, he said under his breath; just wishing this to be over already.  
“Here comes the real thing…”, the coach said as he pulled his fingers from the boy.  
_No, no, no, no…_ it sounded in Connor’s head but he didn’t move an inch. Holding his breath, he could feel the other’s cock nudging his entrance, almost teasingly rubbing against it before, with a sudden move, the other thrust into him.  
Unable to suppress a low cry of anxiety and pain, Connor could feel tears well up; stinging in his eyes as he opened them and stared at the white tiles.  
This is me putting an end to that repulsive longing, the young man told himself. But the words seemed so very empty.  
The other started moving; gripping tightly onto Connor’s hips as he thrust into him; breathing heavily against the boy’s neck. The first pain slowly went away and it started to feel better; but still, the nausea and the panic prevented any real pleasure to well up. Hesitantly, Connor reached down to give himself a few strokes to maybe get hard and come eventually; to enjoy this to some extent and claim that he really didn’t want to be with his father. That his teenage body had only come up with repulsive desires because…  
“What the... Get the bloody hell away from him.”  
Ice water ran through Connor’s veins. It was his father’s voice.  
Swearing, the coach pulled away hurriedly and Connor turned his head; mortified. Haytham stood there; pale and undoubtedly angry, but the expression in his eyes was so intense that Connor immediately averted his eyes again; they were filled with what the young man identified as utter disgust.  
“Shit, Sir, he… he _seduced_ me, I… I didn’t want no…” Fiddling with his belt, the coach stammered apologies but just when Connor turned around with his hands covering his crotch, Haytham had grabbed the man by the collar and slammed him against the tiles.  
“He is a _minor._ It is your duty to _protect_ him. He was under your care. You are the adult and even if he had said it was okay, you have to politely reject any such offer because it is _illegal._ You will never teach again, I can promise you that. You won’t _ever_ see the inside of a school again.” Haytham's voice was cold and hateful; sounding so much like Ziio's voice had sounded once...  
Shaking with shame and guilt, Connor had reached for one of his bagged towels and had flung it around himself to feel less naked; confused and disgusted by himself, he bowed his head.  
“Connor.”  
Flinching as he heard Haytham call out for him, he stumbled forward.  
“Get dressed. I’ll be in the car.”  
Nodding, he wordlessly went to the locker room and slowly got dressed; still able to hear his father’s angry voice in the shower room for long minutes. Then doors slammed and everything was quiet.  
Only then he allowed the tears to come; sobbing, he hugged himself and knew that this had been pointless from the start; that it had been desperate and foolish. There was just something wrong with him, and he couldn’t ever change that.

Eventually, he walked outside and got into his father’s car. Haytham was already waiting; his hands clasping the steering wheel with white knuckles and Connor wondered if Haytham wanted to punch him or the coach, or both.  
“I told you I would pick you up after practice today.”, Haytham said, and his voice sounded strained. There seemed to be an accusation hidden in those words; _did you want me to see this? Did you do it on purpose?_  
“I… I misunderstood. I’m… I’m sorry…”  
Trying to swallow down the tears, Connor folded his gloved hands in his lap and clutched them tightly as his father started the car.  
At first, the tears came silently; just running over the boy’s cheeks and dripping into his lap; then the first sobs came that soon shook his body. Covering his face with his hands, he eventually gave in to the powerful grip of despair; of guilt, self-hatred and shame. How could he ever look Haytham in the eyes again? Now that he, once more, had seen _that_ part of him?  
Only when he could hear his father’s voice reach him, he realized that the car had stopped and they were home. “Connor…”  
A hand touched his shoulder, and in panic, Connor slapped it away.  
“Don’t touch me!”, he let out desperately, his voice still raw from crying. He looked at his father in horror, who seemed surprised and hurt.  
“It’s repulsive!”  
And with that, Connor stumbled out of the car and got inside the house; just rushing towards the shower.

 _He saw how filthy I really am,_ it echoed in Connor’s mind. _Disgusting. Repulsive._ Frantically washing himself, he didn’t care for his hands bleeding or his skin burning from the constant rubbing; he only wanted to wash off any remnants of today; of his coach’s touch; ban the feeling of being dirtied; penetrated by someone he didn’t want to be close with.  
It took over an hour before Connor emerged from the bathroom again; still feeling horrible but good enough to step out of the shower. He looked for Haytham; wanting to apologize for the words in the car; wanting to make clear he had meant himself; he was the repulsive one; the one that shouldn’t be touched… That, at the same time, he wanted to protect himself from the dirt with gloves and disinfectant and simultaneously felt like _he_ was the reason the world around him was tainted; that the gloves wouldn’t protect him but rather protected everything he touched from his repulsive nature.  
His father’s bedroom was empty, and so Connor made his way downstairs. In the hallway, he found Haytham; apparently waiting for him. He was wearing a thick coat and shoes; as if he was about to leave. Only then Connor noticed the duffel bag by his side.  
“You won’t return to that school.”, Haytham said coldly, and his eyes were fixed on some point next to Connor; not looking his son in the eyes as he spoke. “This Sunday you will be picked up at 10am for boarding school. You will spend the last months of school there. Make sure you have everything packed until Sunday then.”  
Haytham turned around and picked up the duffel bag. Before he opened the door, he said, “Well, then. Goodbye.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoy all the drama... uwu


	3. Haytham's Goodbye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is basically the events of Chapter 2 in Haytham's POV - after toying around with a monologue in Chapter 3 I decided it would be best to write this instead - I carefully thought about Haytham's reactions in the last Chapter and wanted to share the background with you guys. uwu
> 
> Again, thank you so much for your feedback!! Just the tiniest comment and every kudos make my day. <3 bless y'all.

_"Dad!"_  
_Running towards Haytham with the biggest smile, the boy seemed just like once; but he was seventeen now and certainly didn't look like a boy anymore. His shoulders had gotten broad and his height was pretty much the same as Haytham's now. Thus when the boy crashed into his father's arms, Haytham didn't lift him up in the air; it was an embrace between equals. Still, the boy's lips found his father's cheek and pressed just the lightest kiss on the pale skin; then a kiss to his jaw and throat, and finally, his lips. Haytham willingly parted them to let his tongue meet his son's and lock their lips in this sweet embrace; his hands wandering over the other's youthful body; cupping his ass and pressing against the other tightly._  
_When their flushed lips parted, Connor's eyes were teary and dark as he said, "I'm yours to do with as you please, father..."_

"Bloody hell!"  
Haytham sat up straight in bed, his heart beating hard in his chest. Running a hand over his face, he groaned. _That_ dream again. He could hear Connor rummaging around downstairs; probably cleaning something for the hundredth time. Ignoring his erection, Haytham flung his legs over the border of the bed and gave another sigh. It's a test of my strength and character, he told himself. Everyone probably had some illicit desires over the course of their life, so maybe it wasn't so abnormal after all. The important thing was that he didn't act upon it.  
He looked at the time and slightly shook his head when he saw that it was only half past six in the morning. He clearly remembered a time when Connor loved to sleep in; but now he sometimes was even awake before his father was. Maybe he had had bad dreams again, Haytham wondered. Lately, it seemed like Connor was sleeping badly; the dark circles under his eyes spoke for themselves, but when Haytham had asked him about it, the boy had just said "Bad dreams." and Haytham didn't dare to ask further; guessing this was either about Ziio or _the other thing_.  
They didn’t talk much in general; and most of the time Haytham had no idea what was going on inside his boy’s head. He was clearly avoiding his father, that much was obvious, but why, Haytham couldn’t say for sure.  
On the one hand, it could be because of _then_. He wondered if Connor believed to have been touched by his father back then, and Haytham surely hoped he knew that there had never been any reason for the boy to worry about something like that; that Haytham had never thought of anything like it. On the other hand… it was different now, and maybe Connor sensed it; knew it even. That idea of them being together had been planted in Haytham’s mind three years ago, and when Connor came back to live with him, it suddenly had reappeared with alluring force. The young man looked mature, and Haytham had to remind himself that he wasn’t; that he was still a minor under his care; someone who needed to be protected.  
He hoped Connor didn’t know anything about how his father recently looked at him; but still, something was terribly wrong, that much he gathered, and sooner or later, he would have to talk to Connor about it; maybe face allegations he hadn’t deserved three years ago, but now surely did.

"May I?"  
Haytham was 'working late' again and frequented one of his favorite bars. The man asking was young; with raven hair and dark eyes. Clenching his jaw, Haytham mustered a smile. "You may. But only if you let me buy you a drink."  
Grinning, the other took a seat at the bar next to Haytham.  
Later that evening, when they had retreated to a nearby motel, and Haytham was fucking him, he realized that this wouldn’t work forever. How often had he replaced him now? How many nights spent like this? There was no way around this - he had to talk to his son.

“How was practice yesterday?”  
The boy didn’t look up from his meal as he shrugged; apparently not willing to talk to his father.  
He looked lost; his dark thatch hiding his expressive eyes. He was cowering so his broad frame looked less impressive than it really was; and the gloves drove Haytham mad; always those gloves; those shoe covers; bagged towels and disinfectant wherever he went.  
Haytham was torn between wanting to shake his son until he stopped living like this, and wanting to just hug him and tell him everything would be okay. Clenching his jaw, he knew that both options were out of question. Still, he wondered if there was anything he could do for the boy. Anything at all.  
“I, uh, was wondering what you wanted for your birthday.”, he said hesitantly; hoping to be able to at least fulfill some wish of his son’s.  
Their eyes met when Connor glanced up, and his dark eyes revealed surprise as well as some distant pain.  
“I don’t know.” The boy’s eyes returned to the meal in front of him as he spoke. After a pause, he added, “But… anything _you_ wanted for your birthday?”  
_I want to have my way with you. Why don’t we go camping again? You can sleep in my sleeping bag. I’ll ease your nightmares. I’ll make you forget your worries if you would just let me_ touch _you…_ Shuddering, Haytham pushed those despicable thoughts away. Eventually, he let out, “Well… I’ll think about it.”  
The young man nodded, and Haytham plucked up his courage. This was unbearable. Seeing his son being so miserable and not knowing why; not knowing if it maybe was his fault after all; if it was connected to Connor not letting himself be touched by anyone; not even his father, or maybe… especially not by his father.  
“I was thinking if we could talk…”, he said, somewhat unwilling.  
“Maybe some other time, ok? I’ll head to bed. I’m tired.” The boy’s answer came quickly, as if he knew where this would go; and in just a second, he was gone; hidden away in his bedroom again.  
Swearing under his breath, Haytham got up to clean away the remnants of their dinner. He was annoyed; not only wasn’t he used to be treated like this, but he was also on the verge of bursting. He could be patient, sure, but when he wanted something, it was sometimes hard not to just stretch out his arms and grab it; especially if it was some forbidden fruit just dangling in front of his eyes an arm’s length away.  
“For fuck’s sake.”, he muttered, only barely keeping himself from throwing one of the plates he was about to place in the dishwasher. He hated unresolved situations.

It was November, and in a few days it would be Haytham’s birthday for which he still hadn’t expressed a wish. Things with Connor seemed to have gotten worse, if they even could. It looked like the boy was sleeping better in those past weeks, but he was even more secluded than before; often out for a run or at the official high school sprinting practice; showering for hours and barely talking or listening to Haytham at all. Usually, he wouldn’t even look at him. It was time they finally talked, Haytham thought, it was time to get whatever this was out of the way. He needed to know if Connor thought his father had done something to him three years ago, or if maybe someone else had hurt him so badly he couldn’t escape the pain of it. And maybe, just maybe, they could reconnect before it was too late…  
“You know what? Let’s have some dinner out today. I’ll pick you up after practice, okay?”  
The boy looked up from his lunch and for a moment Haytham wondered if he had even listened, but then he answered, “Okay.”  
Giving a sigh of relief, Haytham thought that maybe this would be the day they could finally find some common ground again. Whatever stood between them, maybe they could talk it over and realize that in truth, it wasn’t even there. And maybe, he hoped, he could comfort the boy in some way or another after all. Ease that endless pain that seemed to trouble Connor.

Haytham was overly punctual. He hated to be late, and hence he rather waited for a while. Eventually, the boys from Connor’s sprinting team came out of the sports hall but there was no sign of the one boy Haytham was waiting to pick up for dinner.  
Drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, he shifted in his seat and gave an annoyed sigh of impatience. What took that boy so long?  
Looking at the time, Haytham leaned back and closed his eyes for a moment. He was probably still showering; always showering for what felt like hours...  
After long minutes, he started wondering if Connor had slipped past him and had already went home; but that seemed indeed rather unlikely - even though it would seem possible after Connor had avoided talking to him for so long.  
Shaking his head in annoyance and incomprehension, Haytham got out of the car. Looking around, he still couldn’t spot his son anywhere. Eventually, he headed inside.  
“Connor?”  
There was silence, and when Haytham knocked on the locker room’s door, there was no answer. Upon opening it, he found it empty; but he could also spot Connor’s bagged clothing on one of the benches. So, he was still here. Probably still showering just like Haytham had suspected.  
When he was about to turn around and wait in the car, he heard a faint cry. Adrenaline was rushing through his body immediately since it had undoubtedly been Connor’s voice; it had sounded pained and frightened. Unsure where exactly it had come from, Haytham looked through the rooms until he reached the shower room; his heart pounding in his chest, worry and some bad premonition clouding his thoughts.  
When he entered the shower room, he heard a faint slapping sound; panting; and even if he didn’t want to, he knew what this was.  
Soundlessly, he stepped closer.  
When he laid his eyes upon his son, his breath went away for a moment. His heart seemed to stop as well; or at least break at the sight.  
There Connor was; one hand unmistakably jerking himself off, the other propped up against the tiles while someone, who Haytham only identified as the coach a second later, pushed into him; holding onto the youthful hips as he fucked him grunting.  
Swallowing, Haytham could feel anger and jealousy rise inside of him; could feel the blood leaving his cheeks and fury explode in his stomach. He wanted to kill him; that man touching his son; no; _fucking_ his son; Connor, who wouldn’t let _anyone_ touch him; who was already so desperate and damaged –  
When he found his voice, Haytham let out, “ What the… Get the bloody hell away from him.”  
The motions in front of him stopped, and in panic, the man stepped back from Connor, immediately trying to tuck away his dick.  
When Connor turned around and his eyes met his father’s, Haytham was sure that Connor could see right through him.  
_Why him? Why did you choose him to touch you like this?_ He was sure Connor could see the rage – the jealousy; the questions and the want.  
“Shit, Sir, he… he _seduced me_ , I… I didn’t want no…” The coach was eager to get his pants and belt closed again, but Haytham didn’t care. His fists were itching and he wanted to punch the life out of that man. Instead, he grabbed him by the collar and slammed him hard against the tiles. When Haytham spoke, it was almost as if he spoke to himself.  
“He is a _minor_. It is your duty to _protect_ him. He was under your care. You are the adult and even if he had said it was okay, you have to politely reject any such offer because it is _illegal_. You will never teach again, I can promise you that. You won’t _ever_ see the inside of a school again.”  
Letting go of him for now, Haytham took a deep breath. _I will not kill this man._ , he told himself repeatedly as he glanced at his son, who had covered himself in one of his towels.  
“Connor.”  
He could see the boy flinch, and he only barely kept himself from shouting.  
“Get dressed. I’ll be in the car.”  
The boy nodded and then he was gone.  
Haytham returned his attention toward the coach again. Before he even knew it himself, he had punched him in the stomach and watched him sag to the ground with a muffled noise of pain.  
Not bothering to keep his voice down, Haytham snarled. “If you ever come close to my son again, I will kill you. I will kill you, do you understand that?”  
“Sir, I…”, the man looked up to Haytham with some pathetic expression; seemingly still seeing himself as the victim. And Haytham hated how he saw himself in that man; how that filth got to embrace Connor. What does he have that Connor had wanted to let himself get fucked by him?  
The next punch was hard and quick; leaving the coach with a split lip.  
“Shut up; shut the fuck up. You can say ‘Yes, Sir, I won’t ever touch any boy again; and surely never lay eyes upon your son, Sir.’ and beside that you keep your bloody mouth shut, you filthy piece of garbage.” The anger let Haytham’s voice sound cold; strained and hateful.  
“Yes, Sir…”  
“Now, get yourself up. Get the fuck out of here and expect to hear from my lawyers. Call in sick the next days; I don’t care. But if you dare to show up here again - and let me _assure_ you, I will find out - then I will break your legs. I will break your fucking legs, and I am not kidding.”  
Nodding eagerly and wiping the blood from his face, the coach struggled to his feet. When he went for the door, it took all of Haytham’s self-restraint not to go after him; not to just choke the life out of him for good.  
Slamming the door behind him when he left, he sat down in the car; clasping the steering wheel to get his rage under control again.  
And then, suddenly, it hit him.  
Connor had known he would come to pick him up; he had looked him in the eyes and had agreed on Haytham picking him up. So, this wasn’t a coincidence.  
The only thing Haytham was asking himself now was: Did Connor know that his father wanted to sleep with him? Was _that_ really the reason for his seclusion? For his turning-away from Haytham? Maybe he was feeling filthy because of the way Haytham looked at him now…  
When the car door opened, Haytham’s grip on the steering wheel tightened.  
After a moment of silence, he said tonelessly, “I told you I would pick you up after practice today.” _Did you plan this? What do you think you achieved by this? That I saw you hated me; you hated the way I look at you; that you would choose_ anyone _to fuck you but me?_  
“I… I misunderstood. I’m… I’m sorry…”  
Taking a deep breath, Haytham shook his head to get rid of the chaos inside of it, but it didn’t work. He started the car and silently drove home. There was no way they could have dinner out together after this.  
Connor, on the passenger seat, was crying. At first it was an almost inaudible sobbing that seemed to shake the broad shoulders, but soon his whole body was trembling. Haytham kept glancing at him; his heart heavy at the sight. If the boy had planned this, why was he so distraught now? Nothing made sense.  
Haytham stopped the car and unbuckled. For a moment he watched the crying mess next to him and all he wanted was to pull the boy in his arms. “Connor…”, he muttered, hesitantly reaching out for the other; just wanting to give him some comfort and tell him everything would be alright; they could work it out together – but the young man slapped his hand away the second it touched his shoulder.  
“Don’t touch me!”, Connor cried out and when their eyes met, Haytham could see the terror in them. “It’s repulsive!”  
Haytham remained as he was as Connor stormed inside their house; and shock had frozen his body. This was how it was. He knew. Connor very well knew how Haytham looked at him; and he thought of him as repulsive; probably had for some time now. He couldn’t bear Haytham’s touch but let himself get taken by other men; his washing obsession certainly worsened by Haytham being around him; by dirtying him with his illicit desire.

He knows how pathetic I really am, it echoed in Haytham’s mind. _It’s repulsive!_  
He’s right, Haytham thought as he opened the door of their house. I shouldn’t be around him; I should let him get better. I should stop being selfish one damn time in my life. For my son’s sake. How can I hypocritically tell the coach to stay away from my son when I am just the pervert he is?  
Sitting down on his bed for a moment, he could hear the shower run. He had the terrible urge to destroy something, but instead he picked up the phone.  
Three phone calls later, it was settled. Connor wouldn’t return to his current school but instead leave for a private boarding school upstate, where he could finish high school in peace; away from everything troubling him.  
Until the boy would leave for his new home, Haytham would sleep at his company’s. His bureau at Abstergo’s was large, and the sofa wouldn’t be too uncomfortable; in the worst case he would go to some motel for those few nights. Slowly, he packed his things; listening to the endless rushing of the shower. Connor was probably trying to wash off his father’s repellent touch.  
Shaking his head angrily, Haytham knew that he had to leave for good. Whatever stood between them would otherwise remain forever.  
When everything was packed, he went downstairs and put on his coat and shoes again; waiting for his son to finish the shower.  
Connor’s steps sounded hesitant as he walked down. A faint smell of shower gel and disinfectant accompanied him, and Haytham averted his eyes; rather fixing them upon some distant point. He didn’t dare to look his son in the eyes, not after knowing that Connor _knew_.  
“You won’t return to that school.”, Haytham said as emotionless as possible. “This Sunday you will be picked up at 10am for boarding school. You will spend the last months of school there. Make sure you have everything packed until Sunday then.”  
Haytham turned around and picked up the duffel bag. This was the right thing to do, he told himself, no matter how much it hurt.  
“Well, then. Goodbye.”

And boy, did it _hurt_.


	4. Closure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought this would be the shortest chapter of them all. ha ha...  
> Anyways! Thank you SO much for reading and leaving comments & kudos!!

“Happy Birthday.”, Connor muttered, looking through the mail on this April 4th that marked his twentieth birthday. Bills, junk mail, a card from a distant relative on his mother’s side and… that was it. Giving a sigh, Connor wondered what he had expected. The last time his father had sent him a birthday card was during his stay in boarding school two years ago.  
Even then, after months of boarding school, it had felt like hell. It wasn’t even the teasing of the other boys; not even the unclean surroundings distressing him; not the loneliness – no, the worst thing had been the realization that love wasn’t about sex. And even though the physical attraction to his father had troubled Connor the most during his stay with Haytham, it now felt like the least important part of the puzzle. He simply missed him; his voice, his very presence; the knowledge that Haytham was there, just an arm’s length away.  
After suffering for months, Connor’s heart had grown numb. He started to accept that his father couldn’t stand the real son he had seen; was repelled by what he had witnessed. Sometimes, Connor was angry at him for leaving him, and other days, he understood. He guessed that his mother would have left him as well if she had known the truth.

After graduation, he had moved back to Boston; now renting a small apartment near city center. It was his safe and clean haven; a place where he never allowed anyone in. He was working full-time in an upper class apparel store where he got away with wearing gloves every day.  
Once, he had given in to the urge of wanting to talk to his father; wanting to apologize and maybe get some closure. After their old phone number had turned out to be outdated, he had stopped by the house just to find it inhabited by strangers. It had hurt to feel this part of his past break away as well; being forced to let go of the dreams that had clung to these very rooms.  
Of course, he figured, he might be able to reach his father through the company he was working for, but Connor felt like Haytham had purposely not given him any means of contact thus he did not call the company.  
Having lost these last threads connecting him to his father, he had wanted to move on. A few months back, he had even tried dating a co-worker from the apparel store, and even though she had been nice enough and very understanding regarding his obsessive behavior, it hadn't worked out in the end and Connor knew that it was his fault.  
The memory of his father seemed to wash out more with every day; but that seemed also very painful in itself, because a part of him still held onto those faint images and dreams that always caused a distant ache and longing. Every so often during lonely nights, Connor found himself fantasizing again; imagining meeting Haytham per chance in some secluded space; just the two of them; reconnecting, healing, touching, kissing…

But then, one day, everything again changed.  
It had been a rather lazy Sunday not long after his birthday; Connor had excessively cleaned his apartment and then watched a movie when the doorbell rang. For a moment he hesitated; guessing someone had just pressed the wrong button since no one ever came visiting; the few friends he had knew that he didn’t allow them in his home.  
But after a moment, it rang again.  
Closing his laptop, the young man got up and looked through the spyhole in the door; almost stumbling backwards at the sight of his father.  
He didn’t know how Haytham had found out where he lived; but there he was quite in the flesh; dapper as ever with his button-up shirt and his coat; but Connor also noticed the duffel bag he was carrying; reminding him of the very last time they had seen each other.  
His hair had gotten quite grey in those past years; but otherwise he was as athletic and buff as before. Opening the door only slightly; Connor eyed the other with big, dark eyes.  
“Father?”  
Haytham mustered a tired smile and stepped closer.  
“May I come in?”  
Connor hesitated; his heart beating hard in his chest as if it wanted to break down its prison walls; his head swimming because Haytham was already so close.  
“We can… we can go somewhere to talk.”, he said quietly after a moment; still not opening the door completely.  
“I need to talk to you in private. And I don’t have much time; I’ll leave Boston first thing tomorrow morning.”  
The words echoed in Connor’s mind as he slowly opened the door. There was worry in him; not wanting to let his father in just to have him leave again so soon.  
Mutely, he stepped back; shuddering as he saw the other walk into his clean, safe haven.  
“You have to leave the bag, the shoes and your jacket here. Here in my entrance way.”, he said hastily; making sure not to come too close as he grabbed some shoe covers and gloves; putting them down next to his father, who obediently pulled off his jacket and shoes, and slipped on the covers and the gloves. Only then the boy allowed him to proceed further; leading him into the small, sterile kitchen.  
They sat opposite of each other; Connor with his eyes averted to the polished surface of his kitchen table; his hands folded in his lap; desperately trying to hold onto something as he wished he didn’t feel both so uneasy about someone being in his apartment and happy about seeing Haytham again after more than two long years.  
“How are you doing?”  
Connor only briefly glanced up to meet his father’s gaze; shuddering as he felt the other’s grey eyes attentively watching him.  
He shrugged. “I’m good.”  
“Is that so.”, Haytham said slowly, but it wasn’t a question. After a moment of silence, he sighed gravely. “Actually, I had hoped to find you doing better.”  
Shrugging once more, Connor thought that he had hoped to feel less filthy after all those years as well, but somehow it was still a core ingredient of his self.  
“I’ve come to get something out of the way, so the two of us can move on. I suppose I should’ve come earlier, but I seemed to have lacked the courage. Heavens, even now I don’t want to talk about it.”  
Connor clenched his fingers as he waited for his father to continue; bracing himself for the other’s allegations that he was sure would follow. _You’re disgusting. It’s wrong. Those times I have seen the real you still disgust me. Repulsive. Repulsive. Repulsive! Re-_  
“Do you think I abused you when you were fourteen?”  
Connor’s head jerked up and he stared for a moment at the other. “No.”, he said, confusion seeping from this single word.  
Haytham watched him; his eyes not giving away if he was happy with the answer.  
“Did anyone else touch youlike that back then?”  
Connor shook his head; a lump in his throat keeping him from talking.  
Another sigh left Haytham’s lips. “Very well. May I ask why you accused me of touching you during our camping trip?”  
Connor swallowed; hoping to be able to even find his voice again; wishing he was miles away. “I… I didn’t mean to get you in trouble.”, he eventually breathed out, and merely hoped Haytham could believe him; even if there was no way he could forgive him. He must be so disappointed, Connor thought, to have me as his son; his only child.  
“Was it because you wanted me gone? That you and your mother could live alone together again?”  
Again, Connor shook his head; astonished that his father would think something like this.  
“Why did you do it, then? What did you want to achieve?”, Haytham asked sternly.  
Swallowing hard, Connor’s mind was racing; cursing himself for letting Haytham in because now he had the definite premonitio that this would led to the next catastrophe. There was no way he could tell his father the truth; even now he wasn’t ready. Suddenly, he felt like he was fourteen again; scared by his parents’ distress about what he had written in his diary; ashamed and helpless.  
“I’m so sorry.”, he said, and it was the truth.  
For a moment, there was just silence.  
“You won’t tell me why, then?” Haytham waited a moment before he seemed to give up on it. “Well, anyways, I’m the one who came to apologize to you.”  
“What do you mean?” Connor bowed his head in confusion; still waiting for accusations to follow. _Why would Haytham apologize? It was him, Connor, who was in the wrong, who was…_  
_“_ You _know_ why. I know that _you_ know.” There was mild irritation audible within Haytham’s words that completed Connor’s confusion.  
“Know what?”  
Glancing up, Connor looked at his father, who seemed both equally confused and annoyed.  
“But…” Haytham gave an irritated sigh. “The reason you slapped my hand away. That day in the car, you said I was…”  
“Repulsive?”  
“…repulsive.”  
“No, no.” Connor breathed out a mixture of laughter and gasp; getting to his feet as he felt a vortex of distant feelings and panic well up inside of him. Leaning against the kitchen counter, he looked shyly at his father; unsure what to feel or think. “I didn’t say that. Why would I think you were repulsive? I… I meant myself.”  
With a troubled expression, Haytham got to his feet as well; apparently torn what to do next; troubled by this information.  
“You think you’re repulsive? Why?”  
For a moment, Connor wanted to say that he had asked first, but he just remained silent. The words he would have to say were too heavy on his heart to let them roll over his tongue.  
“Because you’re gay? Is that the reason why you think you’re not… okay?”  
Shaking his head, Connor started, “I’m not… not gay. I think. I don’t know. I only ever wanted… one person who just happened to be… a man.”  
“The coach.”, Haytham said tonelessly; arms crossed and his expression stony.  
Again, Connor shook his head; his heart racing with panic that Haytham would _understand._ Would leave him again, and now for good.  
The older man stepped closer; his expression intense as he eyed the boy attentively. _”Who?”_  
Shuddering, Connor averted his eyes to the floor; shrugging helplessly as he denied the other the truth that became all the more obvious by him not answering.  
Connor could see how Haytham took another step closer; standing inches away and he wondered if his father now realized the terrible truth…  
Trying to change the topic, he desperately started, “You… you wanted to apologize? For leaving me?” He couldn’t help but shake – the closeness was too much to bear; the truth between them, forever separating them.  
All of a sudden, he felt Haytham’s gloved fingers on his chin and his face was moved upwards not too gently so he would look the other in the eyes. His heart stopped at the touch, and even though Haytham was still wearing the gloves and hence there was no filth to be afraid of, Connor felt dizzy.

  
_“When you claimed I touched you, it was because you wished it had happened.”_  
Haytham’s words hit Connor like a sledgehammer; knocking the air from his lungs for a moment. Hadn’t he leaned against the counter, he might have stumbled backwards. Trying to take a few deep, hyperventilated breaths, he held the other’s gaze. His father’s expression was foremost inquisitive; but there was also something dark lurking that Connor hadn’t ever seen before and he guessed it must be the disgust from once again seeing Connor for who he really was; _what_ he really was… A filthy piece of garbage just waiting to be disposed of.  
“I’m sorry.”, he brought out; trying to look away again, but Haytham’s grip was firm.  
Instead of backing away, Haytham moved just a bit closer; his face close to Connor’s and as the boy saw his father’s eyes flicker to his lips, he thought for a moment the other would kiss him. And in that tiny second, Connor might have allowed it; still shocked by Haytham learning the truth; defenseless and surprised by the events of these last minutes. However, that second passed and Haytham clenched his jaw instead of closing the gap between them.  
“Say it.”, he demanded, and Connor averted his eyes.  
” _Say it._ I need to hear it from your lips.” His father’s voice was demanding; a dark purr like a cat with the mouse between its paws.  
Trembling, Connor clenched his fists; thinking that Haytham was cruel for torturing him like this; seeing how distressed he was and still pushing further.  
“I wished it had happened.”, he muttered unwillingly.  
_”Why?”_  
Crossing his arms and trying to escape the other’s grip, Connor hissed. “Because I fucking loved you!”, he snapped helplessly; feeling like a cornered animal. Only now, Haytham let go of him.  
When Connor looked at him reproachfully, he was surprised about how troubled the other seemed. Turning away, Haytham took a few steps as if to leave; then he turned around to face his son again. His expression was grim, and Connor swallowed hard. He hates me now, he thought helplessly; wishing it didn’t bother him so much; wishing he could just get some closure and let go of this feeling.  
Tears stung in his eyes, and it was both because of shame and because of anger; chaotic thoughts swirled around in his mind, and the young man simply wished this to be over; wanting to take a shower and clean the apartment again to regain some control over himself.  
He flinched when Haytham stepped closer again, even fearing the other might actually hit him. Maybe that was what he deserved; maybe a good beating could kill that dirty part of him; that _repulsive –_  
“You really have no idea, have you?”  
There was a hint of some predatory grin on Haytham’s lips and Connor just stared at him wordlessly as the older man leaned forward and, without touching him, whispered in his ear, “I’ve _wanted_ you. I left because I _desired_ you.”  
Chaos fully reigned Connor’s state of mind now; his thoughts torn and barely understandable; only words whirled around his head; racing to grasp the meaning behind all of this.  
“Are you making fun of me?” Connor’s voice was small; barely leaving his lips.  
Pulling away slightly so they could look each other in the eyes, Haytham said gravely, “Certainly not.”  
He raised a gloved hand, and ignored Connor’s whispered “Don’t touch me…”; however, he hesitated and Connor knew that it was an intentional opportunity for him to walk away; to protest in all earnest; to say no now and forever to this illicit desire.  
Haytham’s touch was gentle. A finger ran softly over Connor’s cheek down to his lips; a thumb trailing his lower lip and continuing down; two fingers tracing his jawline and chin; his throat and collar bone just above his shirt.  
“Don’t…” It was a whimper more than anything else, and Haytham’s fingers stopped. Blinking away the tears, Connor clenched his jaw; too confused to elaborate; too dizzy to think straight.  
“Why not? Don’t you want it anymore?”  
“I-it’s not that-“  
“I’m wearing the gloves you gave me, remember? No need to be afraid.” Haytham’s voice was sweet now; that dark purr that made Connor’s heart ache as he looked at him and wished the tears would stop dripping from his lashes.  
The gloved fingers resumed their way down; running over the boy’s taut chest just to push up the shirt and reveal the bronze skin beneath it.  
Closing his eyes, Connor wished Haytham wouldn’t look; wouldn’t see his bare skin. In his mind, it surely was an ugly sight that would repel his father for good.  
“Allow me to touch you. Without gloves or anything of the like.”  
Opening his eyes again, Connor shook his head. “No. No.”, he said; biting his lips because he had always imagined Haytham to touch him; to really touch him with his hands and mouth and teeth; to bury his cock deep inside of him and fill him up. But now, in reality, Connor couldn’t stand it; afraid of himself; overwhelmed by the situation. “No.”, he repeated in all earnest and Haytham gave a disappointed shake of his head but complied.  
“I would explore your body with my tongue and teeth.”, he promised as his eyes ran over the other’s exposed chest.  
Shuddering, Connor considered the possibility of hallucinating; of this not really being what was happening.  
When Haytham’s hands greedily ran over his body and a thumb flicked over a nipple, the boy was unable to suppress a soft sound, and Connor blushed; embarrassed by reacting this much to a simple touch. But how long had it been? So many years… He bit his lips more violently; thinking that his boyish voice sounded disgusting; that Haytham maybe didn’t yet understand how _dirty_ Connor was; how repulsive.  
Following the soft sound escaping Connor’s throat, the other’s motions stopped.  
“You either tell me to leave or show me your bedroom. _Now.”,_ Haytham said and Connor’s heart jumped in his chest. Dizziness and panic spread in him; knowing that both options would make everything worse.  
This was too good to happen; this was just something to make everything worse in the end, it sounded in his head. Every good thing that had ever happened to him had only happened so it would hurt more when he would lose it; when it would turn out to be a lie or the reason for something even more horrible following.  
Swallowing to get rid of the lump in his throat, Connor glanced up at Haytham; wishing that fierce part of him was there somewhere in him; would take over to make this easier.  
Shyly freeing himself from being cornered between Haytham and the kitchen counter, the young man stumbled out of the kitchen; carefully pulling the shirt back down again. There he stood in his tiny, sterile hallway; to the left there was the bath and the entrance, to the right his living room and the bedroom. Two desires in him were pulling in different directions; and he knew that he had made the wrong choice as he walked to the right, hearing how his father followed at his heels.

“Wait.”, Connor muttered as they had reached his bedroom.  
Haytham stopped in the doorframe; looking around shamelessly. There wasn’t much to see; very much like the rest of the apartment, Connor’s bedroom was neat, sterile and devoid of any personal belongings at first sight.  
Retrieving two pair of thin latex gloves, the young man held out one of them to his father; aware that those gloves would feel better; allow them to feel more of the other.  
His father willingly exchanged the gloves and Connor took the old ones to throw them away. When he turned back towards Haytham, his heart ached. Was this even real? Not a cruel joke? His mind found countless reasons to believe this wasn’t true; wasn’t meant to be and nothing that would remain.  
Shaking his head slightly, he stepped closer, reaching out with vaguely trembling fingers to unbutton his father’s shirt. Haytham let it happen and once his pale, muscular chest was revealed, he shrugged the shirt off. However, when he reached out to pull off Connor’s shirt, the boy backed away.  
“I’ll… I’ll leave it on.”  
“No.”  
Reluctantly, Connor let the other take off his shirt. Crossing his arms over his chest, he felt rather naked; being afraid that whatever was wrong with him had to be visible; had to disfigure him so that it was obvious how repulsive he was on the inside.  
When Haytham stepped closer again, the young man backed away slightly; knowing that the other must be annoyed by not being allowed to touch him properly; to hug and kiss. It was awkward and Connor wondered if this would feel good at all; if this, of which he had dreamed for over six years now, would in any way be able to come close to the fantasies he had had over the years.  
But maybe… as some other voice in his head saw fit to say; maybe next time it would be better. And the time after next time even more so; maybe… he could get better. He could learn how to bear someone’s touch… If Haytham would only stay… Before his mind was able to spin further, Haytham had gently forced him backwards onto the mattress of his bed.  
His father’s gloved hands found their trails over the bronze skin again; forcing the boy to take away his arms from his chest. Connor closed his eyes as he felt the other’s fingers run over his throat and stomach; over his shoulders and chest; pinching, caressing and fondling.  
With every harsher pinch, he arched his back; trying to hold back his voice as he covered his face with an arm.  
Eventually, Haytham’s fingers crossed the imaginary border of the lower stomach and ran knowingly over the fabric of Connor’s pants; trailing the bulging front with light pressure. Rubbing against the young man’s half-hard cock, Haytham gave an almost inaudible hum which sounded pleased and surprised.  
Ashamed that only those few touches had made him like that, Connor tucked up his legs; effectively resuming a fetal position with his arms covering his face.  
“Connor.” His father’s voice sounded stern, and the boy shuddered. He felt helpless; dizzy with the other’s presence and ashamed of himself being so very revealed before his father’s eyes; certain that every inch of his body must betray the cleanliness around him.  
_”Connor.”_  
Slowly pulling an arm from his eyes, the young man glanced at his father.  
Haytham’s expression was still grim; but his posture seemed relaxed as he leaned over the boy with his revealed chest and the greying hair spilling over his shoulders.  
Running a hand over the young man’s thatch, Haytham smiled sternly. “Don’t do that. You led me here for a reason instead of telling me to go, didn’t you?”  
Hesitantly, Connor let himself be rolled onto his back again and trembled as he could feel his father’s gaze run over his body.  
A mixture of sigh and soft moan managed to pass over his lips as Haytham gave his cock a few determined strokes through the fabric before he opened up the other’s pants. Slowly, he pulled off Connor’s pants and underwear.  
“Do you have lotion or something of the like? Condoms?”  
Closing his legs to hide his erection, the young man blinked away tears of helplessness and shame. He cleared his throat and mumbled, “I have lube. I have condoms. Second drawer from the top.”  
When Haytham opened the drawer, Connor wanted to cry; there was no way Haytham wasn’t shocked by how filthy he was; how clean he looked from the outside and how dirty he was on the inside; no matter how hard he had tried to wash it away. There was not only lube in the drawer; not only condoms. Since he was unable to have some sort of sexual relationship with anyone, he had given in to the lingering desire to pleasure himself a few months ago and ordered two sex toys over the internet; a rather small plug as well as a slightly larger vibrator; ending up using them frequently because it felt clean and exciting.  
Catching his father’s dark glance, Connor felt like ice water was running through him; he had seen that look before; that day when Haytham had caught him with the coach. _Repulsive._  
“Don’t look at me like that. Please…”  
“Like what?”  
“With disgust.”  
Haytham exhaled audibly and let that predatory smile find its way back onto his lips. “It’s not disgust.”, he said, and his voice sounded dark and wanting. “It’s the desire to mess you up that I’m trying to keep under control. I want to tear down all those walls so I can see the bare you; the real you; the you that wants my touch and needs my touch. I want you trembling with lust when I fuck you; I want you to forget everything except for me. I want to take away your pain.”  
A tear escaped from Connor’s lashes and he felt it slowly running down over his temple from the corner of his eye; aside from that he lost all feeling for a moment; only when Haytham reached out to brush away the tear, he could feel his heart beating again and it felt like it hadn’t beaten in ages. Could it really be?  
“Now, turn around, I’ll prepare you.”  
“But…”  
“But?”  
“It’s… it’s, uh, dirty… I c-can do it.”  
“Nonsense. It’ll be my pleasure. Now, turn around, boy. Don't make me ask again.”  
Slowly turning around, Connor kneeled on his bed and presented his behind. Feeling how he blushed, he swallowed and tried to endure the embarrassment.  
“Good.”, he could hear his father’s rich voice along with the sounds of how his father opened the bottle of lube and ripped open a condom wrapper.  
“Have you played with these before?”  
“Y-yes…”, Connor admitted coyly; turning around to see his father pull the condom over the plug and slick it with lube; doing it almost exactly like Connor would.  
“Did you like it?”  
“Yes…”, he whispered; curling his fingers into the blanket and clasping it tightly.  
His body jerked when Haytham’s fingers ran over his ass and slicked his entrance with lube; pushing in one finger before the plug followed.  
Giving a soft gasp, the boy clenched up around the plug with shaking hips and thus pushed it in deeper; hitting all the good spots like never before, even though he wasn't using it for the first time. He could hear his father's deep hum; seemingly pleased by the view he was having.  
"Are you always this sensitive?"  
"N-no, I just... you're here a-and..."  
"And?"  
"You’re w-watching me..."  
He could feel gloved fingers trail the curve of his ass and eventually pull the plug almost completely out before pushing it back in. Connor's body jerked again and he couldn't help but let a sinful sound escape his throat.  
"Did you think about me when you played with these toys?"  
Giving another strangled sound as Haytham once more thrust the plug into him, Connor glanced back at his father with teary eyes; both embarrassed and pleasured.  
"Y-yes, even though I tried n-not to."  
"Why?", Haytham asked, even though he looked like he already had an inkling as of _why._  
"Because..." Connor closed his eyes as panic shook his body once again; unable to keep the shame from spreading in his mind. "Because it's repulsive.", he croaked out, tears blurring his vision as he repeated those words carved into his heart.  
He could feel Haytham freeze and suddenly the gloved hands reached for him to be turned on his back.  
Giving an ashamed sound, Connor pressed his legs together and wished he could hide his erection and overall filthy body.  
But his father gently forced his legs apart and let his gaze run deliberately slow over Connor's exposed skin. Again, he reached out to thrust the plug into the young man's body.  
"That's not what I think it is.", he remarked in a low voice as he reached for the drawer again and produced another condom. “Quite on the contrary…”  
Instead of opening up his own pants, he proceeded to roll it onto Connor’s cock.  
“What are you doing?”  
Haytham smiled. “The condom is for your sake – I wouldn’t mind sucking you off without it.”  
Connor’s breath caught in his throat as he watched how his father leaned over him; grey eyes flickering up briefly before his attention was focused onto his son’s erection in front of him; the wicked smile still lingering on his lips as he parted them to let his tongue trail the other’s length slowly. His gloved hands caressed the young man’s balls and played with the plug; thrusting it in as he took Connor’s cock into his mouth.  
Arching his back, the boy tried to get his reactions under control; biting back the shameful moans that welled up in his throat violently; the sensation of the other’s attentive touches driving him crazy; the hotness of his father's mouth as well as the feeling of the other’s tongue against his cock that rubbed against the roof of Haytham’s mouth.  
When he looked down it was a sight that he wouldn’t have ever dreamed of; his father’s flushed lips around his cock and his hands dancing over Connor’s skin knowingly.  
Clasping the sheets, Connor couldn’t suppress a strangled, helpless sound as he came.  
Haytham pulled away slowly and eyed his son’s pleasured expression; pulling off the condom and disposing of it before he stood in front of the bed again; looking down onto his naked son.  
“I might be lucky you haven’t realized how attractive you are just yet so I can have this one sweet moment with you.”  
For a moment, Connor wanted to respond; offer more of these moments once Haytham was back from his travels; wanted to promise to remain the only one for him… But his voice left him as his father proceeded to undo his pants and freed his straining erection. Again, Connor felt like his fantasies could never have anticipated how he felt at the sight; how his heart made a jump and his stomach flipped in anticipation of what was to follow. Maybe it would really feel different from what he had experienced as a seventeen year old…  
“Fabric or skin, what can you rather bear?”  
Clearing his throat, Connor answered only after a moment. “Fabric.”  
Nodding, Haytham kept his pants on; just the zipper opened and his shorts pulled down. He reached for the drawer again and got a condom and lube; rolling the former on just to slick his cock with the latter.  
When he looked up again, his eyes seemed dark and Connor shuddered. Opening up his legs a bit more, he let Haytham pull out the plug and put it aside carelessly. The older man then slid a gloved, slick finger into the other; a second following. Stretching him gently, he locked eyes with Connor and allowed a brief, feral grin to appear on his lips.  
“Hold your legs up, boy.”, he said demandingly and Connor obeyed. Like this, there wouldn’t be much skin on skin contact and the young man was grateful for it; already anxiously awaiting a flashback of being taken in the shower.  
However, when Haytham pulled away his fingers and aligned himself with the other’s entrance, it felt nothing like that previous time.  
His cock slid into the other’s youthful body easily; Connor was well prepared and relaxed from his orgasm; his body readily allowing the intrusion without pain.  
Gasping, the young man held tightly onto his legs as he averted his flushed face; pressing it as good as possible into the pillow next to him in order to muffle the rapt sounds pouring from his lips, as well as to hide his reddened face.  
Shame still dominated his feelings, but when Haytham started moving it was utterly replaced by the physical sensation of his father thrusting into him; gripping tightly onto his hips with one hand and giving the boy's cock long and good strokes with the other.  
As he readjusted his position, Connor’s body jerked with a sudden rush of pleasure flooding through him and he was glad about the pillow silencing the moans that left his lips.  
However, just then, Haytham stopped, and then the pillow was gone; thrown into some corner of the room.  
Embarrassed, Connor looked up at him, wishing he wasn’t so very exposed.  
_”Don’t.”_ Haytham’s voice sounded rough, and the young man’s heart raced at the tone. “Look at me. That’s an _order.”_  
Connor’s eyes widened but he obeyed; keeping them fixed upon his father, who slowly started to move again; teasingly slow pulling out before he snapped his hips forward and pushed into the other as far as his body would allow; hitting that one good spot when he slid deep into him.  
Unintentionally still biting back his sounds, Connor blinked away tears of embarrassment and pleasure; surprised when his father reached out and forced his thumb between his son's lips and teeth. Panic welled up for a moment because those gloved fingers had been on him, Connor, before; had touched his filthy body… But the anxiety was kept at bay with the next wave of pleasure; eased by the feeling of being filled out and taken by the one person who he wanted to have this close.  
Unable to suppress his moans now, Connor was forced to let them out; blushing as his own pleasured sounds filled the room.  
“Good.”, Haytham all but purred; his voice breathy as he picked up the pace with which he fucked the boy. His thrusts grew more erratic while his eyes were locked with Connor’s; his expression intense and almost angry, as if he was still holding back. Eventually, the young man was unable to endure it anymore; clenching up around his father's cock as he came and spilled over his stomach; letting out a raw, pleasured cry.  
Dizzy with the orgasm, he only barely noticed how sweaty and sticky he was now; and Haytham didn’t give him any time to think about it; letting go of the boy and proceeding to turn him back onto his knees. Before Connor knew it, his father had pushed into him again; gripping tightly onto his hips as he thrust into him from behind; making Connor feel like his insides were being messed with because Haytham reached so deep.  
Gasping, he held onto the blanket and guessed the order to look at his father was suspended now; closing his eyes and just enjoying the frantic rhythm of their bodies being forcefully joined together.  
When he could hear his father moan out his name and thrust into him one last time, the young man was pushed over the edge again; gasping and moaning as he came.

  
For a moment they remained as they were; panting and enjoying this second of pleasure and the feeling of affection and connection. Then Haytham pulled away and got rid of the condom while Connor let himself sink onto the mattress; watching his father’s motions in a daze. Haytham closed his pants and sat down at the edge of the bed, a tired smile briefly appearing on his lips as he ran a gloved hand over Connor’s dark mane.  
“Can’t you… can’t you stay?”, Connor asked reluctantly after a moment of silence.  
“No, I’m sorry. My flight goes in four hours.” Haytham caressed Connor’s cheek and eventually pulled back his hand. He got up and collected his shirt from the floor, pulling it on again, even though Connor was sure they both _really_ needed a shower. Shuddering, he shooed away any thought of that for the moment; not wanting to realize the filth around him; clinging to him; not wanting to think about how shameful he must have behaved…  
“When are you coming back?”  
Haytham turned around and there was a bitter smile adorning his lips. “I won’t.”  
Sitting up, Connor tried to make sense of it all as he felt a vague panic spread in his stomach. “What do you mean? Will you be alright?”  
“Oh, yes. I mean… I’m moving back to London. Permanently.” Haytham sighed; his expression pained as he continued to talk. “Connor… this was closure, right? For the both of us. Just this one time indulging in this; so we can… let go of whatever this was.”  
Swallowing hard, Connor weakly shook his head. “I don’t understand…”  
“I’m getting married again.” When Haytham pulled off the gloves, Connor saw the engagement ring and it felt like someone had pulled the rug from under his feet; now he was tumbling back down into the filthy hole he had tried to crawl out of. I always wanted to be the only one for you, he wanted to say, but there was just an injured sound passing his lips. Tears stung in his eyes and started to drop from his cheeks, his lips and nose; streaming down silently from his eyes. Then the reality of it really hit him; nausea exploded in his guts and he struggled to his feet; not minding his nakedness as he stumbled to the bathroom; noticing how his father reached out for him but didn’t dare to touch him with his bare hands.  
“Connor! Wait-“  
He locked the door and barely made it to the toilet; retching and retching until he finally emptied his stomach. Everything was contaminated; and above all, he was. So completely that it made him dizzy. A strangled sob shook him as he kneeled on the cold bathroom floor; feeling lost and betrayed; used and dirty.  
There was a knock on the door, but Connor just sat there apathetically; closing his eyes as he wished all of this wasn’t true.  
“I’m sorry, I thought… I should’ve told you before.” Haytham’s voice sounded strained as he tried to open the door once more. “I didn’t mean to keep it from you; it was why I came to see you; why I wanted to close that chapter between us, so we can both move on. I didn’t think… it would come to this. I just…”  
“Leave.”  
For a moment there was silence.  
“Connor…”  
“Just leave!” Despair tainted his words that sounded more injured than he would have wanted; hating himself for being so naïve and wanting; for letting himself believe this had been something to help him feel better; to finally find some peace; some love with the one person he had longed for...  
“I…”  
“Leave me alone!”  
He had given him all. Showed him all. Let down his walls just to be thrown away. Like the piece of dirty garbage he felt like. When he started to wash his hands, he couldn’t stop until the water was pink and the front door had closed behind his father.


	5. Savage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uh... sorry for the late update! I had to dissolve my household last month because I'm moving to a different country this month and didn't have much time to write. :( At the moment I'm having a few free days, so here is - finally - Chapter 5.  
> The next chapter should be updated sooner qwq  
> I really hope you're still with me and enjoy more drama. And more naughty stuff.  
> As always, thank you soo much for reading, your kudos and comments!! <3

“…Davenport?” The voice at the end of the line sounded tired, and Connor guessed that he had been asleep.  
“Sorry to wake you, Dr. Davenport…”  
“Connor, is that you?”  
“Yes, I’m sorry.”  
“No, it’s fine. I told you, you can give me a call anytime.” There was a shuffling noise, and Connor figured that Dr. Davenport got up from bed. “So. What’s wrong?”  
Clearing his throat, Connor answered only reluctantly. “I… I can’t sleep.”  
“Since when?”  
Closing his eyes, Connor ran a hand over his face. “Since we last talked.”  
There was another moment of silence, and Connor could hear the other exhale slowly.  
“Is it just… not sleeping, or anything else?”  
“No, it’s just…” He didn’t continue.  
“You have talked about it for the first time to someone, haven’t you?”  
“Well… Yes.”  
“That must have had some impact on you. Are you afraid of dreaming?”  
“I don’t know. I just… I can’t sleep.” His voice sounded defensive, but the young man knew that the other was probably right; all those dreams that had haunted him for so many years; revealing his true longings. How could he now hope they were gone for good?  
“Connor, maybe… you should trust yourself. You said you were…” Dr. Davenport gave a hum as if he was concentrating. “You said you were stronger now, didn’t you? You said that you want to let go of the past.” Pause. “Did you… did you talk to your father like you told me you would?”  
“No. Not… not yet.”  
Dr. Davenport gave a sigh that sounded rather tired. “Well, maybe you should. You said yourself that it might be time. Let go of the past, Connor. You’re doing so much better now than when I met you. I think you can stop being the boy you described to me in our last session; the boy, who only sees his father and doesn’t look after his own needs, who doesn’t trust or value himself. You’re not that boy anymore, Connor. You’re twenty-three and a very capable and independent young man.”  
“You’ve had a real Freudian field trip with me, huh?”, Connor muttered, but actually, there was a lump in his throat from hearing this praise.  
Dr. Davenport chuckled. “It’s, uh… It’s almost 4am. That means in London it’s… well… If I’m not mistaken it’s 9am. I’d say that’s a reasonable time to call your father. Or does he like to sleep in on a Saturday?”  
Taking a deep breath, Connor shook his head and only after a second realized that Dr. Davenport wouldn’t be able to see that. “No. He gets up real early usually.”  
“Okay. There you go. You might as well give it a try. And one way or another, you can call me again if there’s any problem, alright?”  
“Thanks.”  
“Sure. Take care, talk to you soon.”  
“Bye…”

For a moment, Connor just lay on his bed, eyes closed. It was May, and the weather in Boston was stuffy; making him feel like he would suffocate. After a long moment, he slowly got up. He knew exactly where the card was that he was looking for, even though he wished he could have forgotten about it.  
Buried under some official correspondence, Connor pulled out the ignored wedding invitation he had received more than two years ago. Sitting down on the floor, he looked at it with a clouded expression. The picture of his father and his new wife Lucrezia on the front still hurt, even though Connor told himself that it didn’t. They looked happy; ready to start a new life. Connor wondered why he had picked _her_ ; why was it this generic blonde lady?  
Shaking his head, he tried to shoo away the memories of how he had found the invitation in the mail; broken to see his father like this, to see his new life without Connor in it; and then, the memories of the wedding day – Connor alone in his tiny apartment, cleaning for hours until he just collapsed. After that, he knew that something had to change; that he wasn’t willing to give up his life without a fight.  
Now, he was better. Now, he would talk to his father like a son, not like a lover. Reluctantly, with his heart beating hard in his chest, he dialed the number on the back of the card.  
“O’Connell?”  
“Uh, ah… Hi. It’s Connor Kenway. Is there… is this Haytham Kenway’s number?”  
“No, lad, this is Mark O’Connell.”  
“Oh, sorry. Bye.”  
Of course, after two years… Connor checked the number again to make sure he dialed the right one; not having missed any digits while calling a different country. Sighing, he put away the phone, ready to postpone the call to his father once more. Getting to his feet, he stumbled to his bathroom and splashed some cold water into his face. When he looked up, his eyes rested on his mirror image for a moment. He was certainly different now; with his nose piercing and his undercut; with his broad frame and the messy pony tail. And still, somewhere in there was also the confused boy that wanted Dad to only see him among all the others around them.  
He felt tired, and after a moment he left the bathroom to pick up the phone again; calling the company Haytham had been working for, and maybe still was.  
“Stillman, Abstergo Industries. How may I help you?”  
“Uh, hi. This is Connor Kenway. I… I was wondering if I could talk to my Dad? Haytham Kenway?”  
“I’m sorry. I’m afraid I can’t help you with this matter. Have a good day, Sir.”  
“Wait –“  
But she had already hung up.  
“What the hell…”, Connor muttered, making a face. That hadn’t been helpful at all. There were certainly ways to find his father left but he hadn’t imagined this to be so hard… Sighing, he leaned back against his bed, wishing he could just sleep. There had been dream-like phases during the nights, where he had seen Haytham by his side, had seen him lying next to him peacefully, but those images had been blurry and distant and only added to the faint ache accompanying those memories.  
During the past months, Connor's life had been rather normal. Still, a bit secluded, but aside from that, thanks to Dr. Davenport’s help, _normal_. He was rarely wearing gloves anymore; of course there were bad days and good days, but the overall picture seemed brighter than ever before. Behavioral therapy had helped him overcome his OCDs, even though he had found it to be long process.  
Reaching for the disinfectant, he cleaned his hands. Just then, his phone rang. He glanced at the number but didn’t recognize it.  
“Connor Kenway?”  
“Hello, Connor.”  
Shuddering, Connor’s heart stopped for a moment. “Dad?”  
“You wanted to talk to me, I hear.” There was noise in the distance; honking and voices, as if Haytham was crossing a busy street somewhere.  
“Uh, yes.” But suddenly, Connor’s mind was blank.  
For a moment, he just listened to the noises in the background, wondering where his father was.  
“Did… did Abstergo call you?”  
“Yes.”  
“I… they said they couldn’t help me.”  
“Well, that was probably a precaution.”  
“For what?”  
“Why did you want to talk to me?”  
Swallowing hard, Connor tried to find the right words. “I wanted to ask if I could… come visit you. I’m… I wanted to see my father. After this time, I just wanted to…” _To have a normal relationship to you. After we had sex and all._ “To have my father in my life. I’m ready to let go of the past. You… you know.”  
Again, there was a pause until Haytham answered. “I understand. Well, we’d be happy to have you.”  
_We._ It doesn’t hurt me, Connor told himself. Of course he’s still with his wife.  
“However, we’re currently not in London, if you wanted to see London.”  
“I don’t really care.”  
“Very well. We’re in Italy. Do you want to stay for a few days?”  
Baffled by the other’s quick acceptance of Connor’s wish, the young man needed a second to respond. “Uh. Yeah. I’d like that. Where in Italy are you?”  
“A small town near Naples in Campania. You’ll like it. We’ll be here for another month or maybe two; Lu’s brother has business here. My wife; Lu. Do you think…” There was a slight shuffle, and slowly, the noises faded as if Haytham was walking in some more quiet streets. “You think you can get a few days off?”  
Wondering whether or not Haytham knew that he was still working at the same store, Connor licked his dry lips, not wanting to think about the prospect of seeing his father again soon.  
“Yeah. I can get a few days off. Maybe a week. The one after next?”  
“Sure. I’m not too busy at the moment, so it should be fine. It would be nice to see you again, Connor.”  
Closing his eyes, Connor exhaled slowly. _It doesn’t affect me anymore._ , he told himself.  
“Yeah, I’d…. I’d love to meet your wife. I’m sorry I didn’t make it to the wedding.”  
“Don’t worry about it.” The huskiness to his father’s voice let Connor’s heart jump and he wished he wouldn’t react to it this much anymore.  
“I’ll… I’ll text you?”  
“Okay. Use this number. Once you know when you’ll be free, let me know. I’ll buy the plane tickets.”  
“Oh, no, I’m… I’m doing okay. I can get them.”  
“Nonsense. It would be my pleasure.” _Nonsense. It would be my pleasure. Now, turn around, boy. Don't make me ask again._ , it echoed in Connor’s mind, automatically recalling those very words years ago. Shaking his head, he muttered. “Fine. Then… then take care. See you soon… father.”  
“I’m glad you called.”

Two weeks later, Connor was on his way to Italy. It was a more than ten hour flight with a stop in Rome; Connor started on a Friday evening, and would arrive Saturday afternoon. He had slept better in those past days, but the hours preceding his departure to Italy were filled with doubt. Maybe it was a bad idea after all, the young man contemplated. Maybe I’m still an idiot who wants to be with his father?  
After he had boarded the next plane in Rome, he was only about an hour away from seeing Haytham again, and he felt braver. He was probably looking old by now, Connor thought, shifting in his seat and trying to concentrate on the view out of the window. I’m probably gonna be ashamed that I ever thought he was attractive; that I actually slept with him. Even though hearing his voice messed me up, I’ll then see that it was ridiculous wanting to be with him.  
Sighing, he reached for the safety instruction card and read through them just to get his mind off the moment he would step out of Naples International where his father had promised to pick him up.

Once his feet were on Italian ground, Connor’s heart was beating faster than he would have thought; the knowledge of seeing his father again made him dizzy.  
The last time he had seen Haytham, they had slept with each other; the last time he had really touched his father had been when Haytham had dropped him off at school almost ten years ago, and young Connor had given him a small goodbye-kiss.  
Taking a few deep breaths, Connor got into the bus that brought him from the small plane to the airport itself, where he waited nervously for his suitcase to show up on the conveyer belt. He had glanced around; unsure whether or not Haytham would pick him up here or outside. There was no sign of him, and Connor wavered for a moment; maybe he wouldn’t recognize him; maybe he wouldn’t come to pick him up after all…  
After he had gotten his suitcase, he slowly made his way out of the airport. The sun was bright when the young man stepped out of Naples International; blinding him for a brief moment. And then, once his eyes had readjusted to the light, Connor saw him.  
His father came towards him; hands buried in his pockets, his button up shirt slightly undone; the greying hair in a ponytail, and his skin slightly tanned.  
The breath caught in Connor’s throat as he laid eyes upon the other; and in an instant he knew that he had been a fool. Of course, he still loved him. Of course, he still wanted to be the only one for him.  
Haytham didn’t look old at all; as a matter of fact, he looked better than ever, Connor thought as he stood before him. _Look at me. That’s an order.,_ it sounded in the young man’s head and he swallowed hard as he tried to avert his eyes.  
“Connor.” Giving a nod as a greeting, Haytham mustered a smile.  
“Father…” Connor wanted to say more; wanted to say that he was glad to see him; was glad to be invited, but there were no words leaving his lips as he wondered whether or not the other saw the changes in him; saw that he was different now.  
Haytham gestured towards their right, and said, “I parked my car nearby.”  
Nodding dizzily, Connor followed at the other’s heels, unable to pry away his eyes; wishing he wouldn’t automatically think of the last time they had seen each other; of the images of Haytham sucking his cock and the stern expression as he had fucked him.  
“How was your flight?”  
Swallowing but still feeling the lump in his throat, it took Connor a second before he answered. “Quite long. But I managed to sleep from Boston to Rome. Uh, thanks again for the tickets.”  
“Don’t mention it.”  
“So… how long have you been in Italy?”  
“About seven months. We have a house here, you’ll see. But we still own an apartment in London, where we will eventually move back to.”  
“And what about your work? Don’t you work for Abstergo anymore?”  
“Oh, I’m actually working for them over here. Expanding our branches. They’re glad to have a capable member in Italy now; reconnect to some previous… success.”  
Once they reached the car park, Connor tried to spot his father’s car, but there were no SVUs in sight; only smaller vehicles. The young man realized that the other would have gotten a new car over here, but he was still surprised when they stopped in front of a rather shabby looking compact car.  
It was no comparison to his old SVU; not only smaller but it had lots of scratches. However, when Connor looked around, he saw that the other cars looked pretty much the same; some were even fixed with what looked like duct tape.  
Returning his gaze towards his father again, he found the other’s grey eyes attentively watching him. With a shudder, Connor put down his suitcase; searching for the right words to say and trying to keep the urge to just wrap his arms around his father at bay.  
“You’re better now, aren’t you?”  
Connor’s heart ached. “Yeah. You may… you can hug me, if you want.”  
For a second, they simply looked at each other, and the young man almost expected a rejection; guessing even a hug was too much after everything that had happened between the two of them.  
But then Haytham took a step forward and pulled his son into his arms.  
Instantly, Connor returned the hug and buried his face in the crook of the other’s neck.  
This was a son’s embrace, he told himself as he breathed in the familiar scent and drowned in the sound of his own heart beating hard in his chest. He could feel Haytham’s breath on his neck and he shuddered under the other’s touch; his skin tingling where his father’s fingers rested. He was vaguely reminded of the night he had spent as a boy in his father’s bed; how he had embraced the other and had wished for this moment never to end.  
His hands wandered over Haytham’s back shyly, exploring the muscular curves under his fingertips and regretting that he hadn’t had the chance to map out the other’s body with his hands and lips back when they had slept with each other. Now it was too late, he thought deploringly as he closed his eyes and unknowingly tightened his embrace.  
When Haytham eventually pulled away, Connor opened his eyes again and only reluctantly let go of his father; not wanting to miss the feeling of the other’s body close to his’, of his breath on his neck, and the hands on Connor’s body; feeling like he would never have the chance again if he let him escape his arms now.  
For a split-second their eyes met and in an instant whatever was keeping the young man from doing what he wanted was gone; long afterwards he thought to have seen the same longing that was running through him in his father’s grey eyes. Moving forward again, he crashed their lips together and his hands clasped his father’s shirt tightly.  
At first, Haytham seemed to shy away; struggling against the other’s grip as he took a step backwards and didn’t respond to Connor’s rough kiss, but when he opened his lips to protest, the young man just pressed closer; letting his tongue meet his father’s. Only then Connor realized that it was their very first kiss, and a soft sound of eagerness and want escaped him as he pushed Haytham against the car and let his hands roam over him shamelessly; grabbing his greying hair and holding his neck as he pressed against him. There was still a vague resistance on Haytham’s part but Connor ignored his faint struggle as he slipped a hand beneath the other’s shirt hungrily, not minding the sound of at least one button being ripped off.  
The feeling of the other’s bare skin beneath his hand let him shudder; spurring the want running through every fiber of his body; making him crave more; more like he had always dreamed of; skin on skin and tongue against tongue…  
However, when his other hand proceeded to cup his father’s cock through the fabric of his pants, Haytham pushed him off breathlessly.  
“What do you think you’re doing…?”, he asked; his voice husky and raw.  
“Let me, uh, service you.”, Connor breathed out longingly, and then suddenly, he realized what he had done; only now finding himself back in the middle of the car park with the noises of tourists and traffic nearby, and his father looking at him darkly; his hair messy and his shirt undone.  
_“No.”_  
Taking a deep breath, Connor gave a faint shook of his head as if to clear it; trying to keep the adrenaline that was rushing through his body from taking the wheel again; either making him run away or jump the other once more in a desperate attempt to chase after something that was over. _I ruined everything,_ he thought panicky; avoiding his father’s gaze as he searched for apologetic words that would make everything alright again. “Ah, you’re right… I’m… I’m sorry. Sorry.”, he muttered, his voice echoing the worry and confusion that were clouding his mind.  
“Not here. I know a place.”  
Connor looked up at the other, and for a moment he doubted to have heard what he had heard.  
“Come on.”, Haytham said as the other wasn’t reacting; opening up the car.  
Not hesitating for a moment longer, Connor grabbed his suitcase and got in.

After a short drive that Connor didn’t quite recall afterwards, they entered a small, run-down apartment complex. Haytham had said something on the way about an apartment of a colleague of his’ who wasn’t in Italy at the moment, but the young man had been too distracted by his father’s hand on his upper thigh drawing lazy circles with his fingers to really listen to what he was saying.  
As soon as the door had closed behind Haytham, Connor had turned around and was all over him again; pressing the other against the door as he kissed him; his hands returning to explore those curves he had always dreamed of knowing; this body that had driven him crazy when he was seventeen; this man who had left him for a woman.  
This time, Haytham seemed more willing to indulge the other and wrapped his arms tightly around the young man while he hungrily returned the kiss. Connor opened up the remaining buttons of his father’s shirt and pushed it off; letting his kisses wander from Haytham’s lips down over his jaw and throat; gently sucking on his collar bone as he grinded his hips against the other’s; breathing out soft moans against his father’s wetted skin.  
When the young man’s greedy kisses and bites turned so rough that they would leave marks for sure, Haytham ruthlessly pulled him off by his hair.  
“You have turned into quite the savage, haven’t you?”  
But Connor only mustered a teeth-baring grin.  
“And still, I do recall an offer of you servicing me?”  
Letting go of the young man’s hair and ignoring his shirt on the floor, Haytham walked over to the bed that was situated not too far from the door of the plain one-room apartment; and before sitting down, he freed his straining erection.  
“Mind your teeth.”, he added sternly as Connor stepped closer.  
Getting onto his knees, the young man shot the other a dark glance that was meant to lessen this posture of submission; wanting to stress that he had changed, that he wasn’t the shy boy from back then anymore. _Maybe,_ a voice in his head sounded, _maybe he wouldn’t have left me if I had been like this back then…_  
Once, a friend of Connor’s had compared giving his first blowjob to his current boyfriend with receiving the consecrated host in church; describing it like a religious revelation of some sort. Back then, Connor had only shaken his head in amusement and disbelief of the comparison, but now he thought to understand it better. His eyes flickered up from the other’s cock to his face, and as he parted his lips, he felt excitement and affection rushing through him like an intoxicating spell devouring him whole. Letting his tongue trail the other’s length, he met his father’s eyes and a crooked smirk played around his parted lips. Haytham seemed as stern as before; not unlike their previous encounter years ago; almost angrily looking down onto his son, whose tongue returned to lick over the head of his father’s cock.  
Curling a hand into Connor’s hair, Haytham gave a faint sigh but his dark expression remained.  
Hoping that what he was doing felt nice, Connor pressed sloppy kisses against the other’s cock; and eventually he wrapped his lips around it and gently sucked. He pressed his tongue against it as he took in more, closing his eyes for a moment and listening to the sounds around him; hoping he could force a noise over Haytham’s lips.  
Only when he quickened the pace with which he moved up and down – almost gagging because he took him in so deep – he could hear his father’s breath go faster; and at some point Haytham even moved up his hips slightly; pushing into Connor’s mouth and being perfectly in sync with the young man’s movements.  
Connor had reached down to his own aching arousal and had rubbed against it through the fabric of his pants; not recalling since when he had been like this but his shorts felt wet and stained; only adding to the need making him feel dizzy.  
Unexpectedly, Haytham pulled him up again by his hair; his eyes dark. “Enough.”  
“You can come in my mouth, if you want.”, Connor muttered, wiping saliva from his lips with the back of his hand and looking at his father with his eyes glazed over with longing.  
“You really have changed. But as tempting as that sounds, I hardly ever come from just _that.”_  
“Then do me properly.” Connor was quick to answer; stumbling to his feet and pushing Haytham backwards onto the bed. Leaning over him, he caught the other’s lips in a slow kiss; gently moving his lips against the other while he undid his own pants. Breaking the kiss after a moment, he got up and proceeded to push down his pants and underwear but was stopped by his father’s hands. Glancing at Haytham, Connor let him do it willingly.  
When he slowly pulled down the young man’s pants, Haytham gave a mocking hum; running his thumb over Connor’s wet cock.  
“How eager you are…”  
The young man wanted to give some snarky response but only a moan escaped his throat when Haytham’s hand closed around his cock and gave him a few determined strokes.  
“Good boy.”, Haytham purred, and Connor’s heart jumped even though he wished this simple praise wouldn’t make him feel so flattered.  
Reaching for the small nightstand next to the bed, the older man produced a bottle of lube, and Connor caught a glimpse of sex toys and condoms filling the drawer.

  
Instantly, he realized that this wasn’t some colleague’s apartment that Haytham had access to while the other was not in Italy; no, this was Haytham’s apartment, meant for nothing else than this: Sex outside of his marriage.  
Feeling the nausea creep back into his stomach, Connor took a deep breath, trying to push away this knowledge; not wanting to think about other people being right here, in this very spot, with his father’s hands on them…  
In this state of confusion, Haytham had reached out for him, and suddenly Connor found himself lying on the stomach on the mattress with the other leaning over him; fingers trailing the taut curves of his ass and thighs; pushing apart his legs further before rubbing  over his entrance with a slicked finger.  
Giving a soft sound that he couldn’t bite back, Connor just curled his fingers into the mattress; both wanting and not wanting this to happen; suddenly being that boy again, who wanted to be the only one for his father.  
"Have you missed this?”, Haytham asked as he pushed in one finger.  
"N-no, I've had plenty of men to satisfy me." Connor’s voice was shaky, and he doubted that the other could believe a word of it.  
And indeed, Haytham sounded more amused than upset. "I see. But none of them were me, were they?”  
"Maybe that made them b-better.", Connor muttered, glancing back at him and hoping that had hurt just a little bit.  
But Haytham just raised his brows in an annoyed manner and pushed in a second finger; thrusting them into the other’s body knowingly.  
Another moan passed the young man’s lips as the third finger was slid into his body; joining the sweet rhythm with which Haytham pushed them into him and stretched him gently.  
When he pulled away his fingers, Connor knew that this was the moment to protest; the last moment to stop becoming his father’s next affair in the same bed that others had been fucked.  
Clenching his jaw, he raised his ass from the sheets and waited for Haytham to push into him. He could hear a condom wrapper being ripped open and after a moment, he felt the other’s cock against his ass; rubbing against it as if to spread more lube.  
“You’re twitching so much, I reckon it’s been a while?”  
“Nah, can’t do a day without it. Anyone would do.”, Connor said coldly, in his thoughts adding, _just like you, right?_  
Without any warning, or maybe as a reaction to the young man’s words, Haytham moved forward and pushed into him not too gently; immediately starting to move roughly.  
"So, since you're very experienced by now, tell me...” His voice sounded husky and angry, and as Connor tried to look back at him, his head was shoved forward and pressed down as Haytham picked up the pace with which he pushed into him. “Is this how you enjoy it? Do all those men who had you by now fuck you hard or gentle? Don’t you like it rough now, being the _savage_ you are?"  
A strangled sound left Connor’s lips as he spread his legs wider and hoped Haytham would go slower until the feeling of intrusion would turn into pleasure. “Go… go slower…”, he managed to breathe out, wriggling in his father’s grip and holding onto the sheets tightly.  
_”Answer me.”_  
“No, no… I…” Another choked sound leaving his throat disrupted his words as Haytham pushed deep into him again. “I d-don’t! _Please,_ I want to look at you!”  
Stilling his motions, Haytham pulled away and let go of the other. Reluctantly, Connor moved onto his back, his hips aching. Looking up at the other, he wanted to say more, but couldn’t find the right words. _This time it’s just as messed up as last time,_ he thought with an air of devastation.  
His father’s expression was indecipherable; and Connor wondered if he was hurt by the idea of Connor having had many partners. _Probably not,_ the young man mused, _since he’s no different; since he's the one with the many partners. I’m just projecting my pain onto him._  
Spreading his legs as an invitation, Connor didn’t say anything about those previous claims being a lie; hating himself for feeling this need to lie; to try to hurt the other because he, Connor, felt so very hurt by the knowledge of never having been the only one for him.  
For a moment it seemed like Haytham was hesitating, but then he moved forward again, aligning himself with the young man’s entrance and pushing back into him; slower this time. His rhythm now was a gentle pace and when he held onto Connor’s hips, the young man’s mind was taken off those worries temporarily; able to let himself be overcome and distracted by pleasure.  
He reached down to his arousal and gave himself long strokes, his eyes locked with Haytham’s; his legs wrapped around the other’s waist.  
When his father got the angle just right with which he pushed into him, Connor sighed and moaned; arching his back as he was close to the edge of coming already.  
Now Haytham broke their eye contact and leaned down to let his lips and tongue trail over Connor’s chest slowly; sucking at a nipple and leaving faint hickeys where neck and shoulder met.  
When he pinched a nipple, thrust deep into the young man’s body and simultaneously bit down playfully onto the other’s neck, Connor let out a raw moan and came; spilling over his chest and one hand as he ripped at the sheets with the other.  
Haytham's lips left the young man's neck, and somehow, as Connor saw his expression, he seemed more angry than ever; leaning down again and resting a hand on Connor’s neck to force him upwards and crash their lips together for a rough kiss.  
Being fucked and kissed through the orgasm, Connor was a trembling mess in his father’s arms; willingly letting Haytham have his way with him. However, the older man’s pace remained as slow as before and it didn’t take long until he breathed out a husky moan into their kiss and came with a shudder.  
Connor wrapped his arms around him and their kiss continued for a moment longer.

  
When Haytham pulled away and got rid of the condom, Connor watched him with a bittersweet feeling. Even though he wished this could continue, he knew it couldn’t.  
The other handed him some tissues and he slowly wiped himself clean from cum, his mind still spinning. He didn’t want to go back to that evening he had seen Haytham last; washing his hands until they bled, and just wishing for his father to kick in the bathroom door and say that he, Connor, was the only one. A foolish boy hoping to find love and just stumbling into a dark hole of self-hatred and obsessive behaviors because he was unable to let go of the one person he would never have. He didn’t want to get hurt that badly again; to be left for someone else; to see that there was always someone else. Haytham was married and it didn’t seem like he was about to change that; no, Connor was just another fuck on his path of affairs; maybe something more exciting along the way… some forbidden fruit dangling temptingly right before his eyes.  
Swallowing hard, he looked at Haytham; feeling how tears blurred his sight.  
“This was closure, right?”, Connor said, and he felt sick as the words passed his lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to put the whole stay in Italy in this chapter, but I had to split it up after all (getting waaay too long for one chapter) uwu I've written most of the rest of Connor's time in Italy, so look out for the next chapter coming sometime within a week!
> 
> <3


	6. Promises

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, as promised: Learn a bit more about Haytham's motivations in this chapter! uwu However, he just talks about the reasons for his past actions, so there's still a chance he's not telling the truth...

“This was closure, right?”  
Connor blinked away the tears and clenched his jaw as he eyed the other expectantly.  
A part of him wished for Haytham to protest; to show that he wanted to be with him; while the other part was anxious to leave this behind; too hurt by Haytham’s ambivalent behavior.  
“Yes, of course.”  
His father's face was stony and didn’t give away whether or not he was happy about Connor not wanting to continue their affair for his stay, and the young man wished he knew how the other felt about it; felt about him.

They drove home in silence.  
Connor felt numb; watching the chaotic traffic of Campania’s streets without any real interest. The sun was pleasantly hot, an incredible blue had flooded the sky and palm trees lined the streets. Still, the young man couldn’t enjoy any of it; a diffuse urge to shower making him feel uncomfortable and restless as he shifted on his seat and avoided looking at his father.  
They took a highway out of the area of Naples and passed through tunnels until they followed a narrow street that went in winding curves at the edge of a mountain right beside the ocean, until they reached a more secluded bay, in which a harbor town was situated; crawling up the mountains by the shore and clinging to the green hills.  
An abundance of lemon and olive trees filled crevasses and gardens; and whole orchards of lemon trees spread a fruity scent that Connor inhaled with a bittersweet feeling as they passed them.  
He hugged himself and felt like seventeen again; sitting in his father’s car; devastated and confused. _I’m not as strong as I thought I was by now,_ he mused with his heart aching. _What was I thinking when I kissed him? What was I thinking when I flew here? He’ll never be the one for me. I'll never be the only one for him._ And for some reason or another, that still felt like the part that hurt most.

Haytham and Lucrezia’s villa was at the farthest end of the bay; overlooking the ocean and the nearby city. It was large, with a patio and a small pool, and palms and fig trees adorning the colorful Italian house. Connor got out of the car and instantly felt even more miserable; thinking about his father and his wife having lived here for seven months already; having had a life of affairs and luxury.  
Haytham showed him the house and the guest room reticently; handing him towels and explaining that he would have enough time for a shower before Lu would come home from work.  
Connor just nodded and locked himself in the bathroom; taking a shower and trying not to fall back into old habits; counting the seconds of washing so he wouldn’t get lost in it and scrub until he bled.

He could hear voices when he exited the bathroom; the scent of food filled the house and only now he realized that he was actually, despite the nausea still making him dizzy, hungry.  
After he had put on different clothes, he made his way towards the kitchen, where he found Haytham and his second wife, Lucrezia. They stood at a kitchen counter and seemed to prepare salad for dinner; cutting vegetables and chatting while doing so.  
“…I think we just need to squeeze that mobster a little. I’d say-“ Her voiced trailed off once she noticed Connor and an almost too sweet smile appeared on her lips. Instantly, Connor knew that he wouldn’t like her too much, not only because she was the one Haytham had spent the past two years with instead of Connor.  
She rounded the counter and held out her hand. “Ciao, Connor. Welcome in Italia.”, she said, and only now he noticed her faint accent. Reluctantly, he shook Lu’s small hand and immediately wished he had his disinfectant in his pocket.  
“I’m glad to finally meeting you.”, she added and he just gave a nod, unable to return the words.  
Mutely, he helped to carry their dinner, which consisted of salad and pasta, outside. They ate on the patio overlooking the harbor and the distant Bay of Naples with the Mount Vesuvius towering above the glistening water. Lucrezia talked the most during their dinner, but she didn’t seem to notice that the men were blatantly avoiding each other. She talked about Haytham having bought silver engagement rings for the two of them; about how they had picked wedding rings and what Connor had missed on the special day. However good the pasta might have been, Connor couldn’t enjoy one bite of it while she talked.  
When he seemed not too interested in those topics, she showed distant islands to Connor and told a few illustrious stories about the island of Capri, which was one of them; adding that his father could take him there one of the days because they owned a boat.  
Haytham had just nodded and feigned a smile.  
Neither of them finished their meal that evening, and when Lucrezia brought out some wine and gave Haytham a brief kiss, Connor excused himself to the bathroom, where he splashed some cold water into his face and washed his hands thoroughly; feeling sick to see the very lips that had been on him hours ago be kissed by someone else. He took a few breaths as he looked at his pale reflection in the mirror; cursing himself for coming here and torturing himself. Why had Haytham even struggled the moment Connor had kissed him? Why had he slept with him so willingly afterwards; why had he been seemingly so angry? Questions upon questions, and Connor was sick of it all. He just wished he could leave without making a fuss; could leave a part of himself right here with his father and never look back.  
When he got back outside, the sun was slowly setting; painting the sky over the bay in lavish colors. Lucrezia was leaning against her husband, who looked upon the ocean; and Connor couldn’t help but think that he seemed lost.  
“Care for some wine, Connor?”, Lucrezia asked.  
Shaking his head, the young man sat back down and let his gaze wander over the beautiful landscape of the seaside; wishing he was in a state of mind to really appreciate it.  
“May I ask why the two of you are so… well, estranged?”  
Connor’s eyes briefly flickered over to Haytham, who hadn’t averted his eyes from the sea. Swallowing hard, he wanted to say many things. _Because my mother thought he molested me. Because I actually wanted him to fuck me. Because we fucked. We fucked today, when you were at work. Because I slept with my coach and he caught me; because I’m damaged good; because I’m still… repulsive._  
“We never really got a chance.”  
His father’s voice sounded distant, and with mild surprise, Connor looked at him. But Haytham’s gaze was still directed at the ocean and the distant islands.  
“What do you mean, love?”  
Now, Haytham turned around, his grey eyes only briefly resting upon Connor. “He lived with his mother. I never saw him much. After her death, he went to boarding school.”  
Trying not to make a face, Connor clenched his fists under the table; feeling hurt by his father skipping the happiest memories in Connor’s youth; when the three of them had lived together and everything had still been well.  
“Oh, I see.”  
On the other hand, he could understand why Haytham didn’t tell her the truth; wondering if he, Connor, should be the one to tell her that her husband wasn't the man she thought him to be.  
“Well, I thought the two of you could… _reconnect_ while I’m on a three days trip with my brother.”  
Both Haytham and Connor looked at her in surprise, and Haytham was the first to say something. “Weren’t we supposed to make that specific trip together?”  
She flashed him a smile. “It’ll be fine. You enjoy your time with your son, and I’m going to take care of business.”  
Clenching his jaw, Haytham didn’t seem too happy about this particular plan, but he remained silent.  
“I know he cares about you, dear.”, she said to Connor conspiratorially as she leaned onto the table and looked at him while taking a sip of wine. The young man glanced from her over to Haytham, who seemed annoyed.  
He wanted to say that he wasn’t so sure about that, but instead he just muttered a vague, “Oh?”  
“He always carries your picture in his wallet, you know.” Resting a hand on Haytham’s shoulder, she laughed, and it sounded as if she enjoyed his annoyance. “Aw, don’t be embarrassed, love! I think it’s cute. He’s your _son,_ after all.”  
“I guess I’ll retreat to bed.”, Haytham said abruptly, and got to his feet. He grabbed their plates and made his way to the house; only stopping once to turn back and say, “Good night.”

That night, it took Connor long to finally fall asleep.  
The unfamiliar surroundings made him restless, and his mind was still spinning with everything that had happened during the day.  
He lay awake and listened to the sound of a breeze rustling through leaves; trying to make sense of it all. Shifting from one side to the other, the only thing he saw when he closed his eyes was his father.  
With a groan, he sat up and rubbed his eyes.  
He remembered all too well what Haytham had said during their last meeting, back in Connor's apartment all those years ago. _’Ive_ wanted _you. I left because I_ desired _you._ Had that even been true? _If it was,_ Connor mused as he let himself fall back onto the mattress, _then the thought he was doing the right thing. He really thought I had said he was repulsive, back in the car; he really believed I thought he was the disgusting one. That’s why he must have thought I’d be better off without him. But this couldn’t have been the reason for leaving last time, could it? And now? It certainly wasn’t the right thing to cheat your wife with your son in an apartment exclusively made for affairs…_  
Sighing, he closed his eyes again.

On the next morning, Connor was unsurprisingly tired. He downed the coffee that awaited him in the kitchen along with a note from his father that said: _Bringing Lu to Napoli. Back around 4pm. I will stop for afternoon tea in my favourite restaurant. If you want, you can meet me there, but you don’t have to. H._ On the table there was also a tourist map of the town, and Connor could see that Haytham had marked the house and apparently the restaurant on it.  
Shaking his head, he was pretty sure he wouldn’t go there.

And still, at precisely 4pm, Connor sat down at one of the tables that adorned the restaurant’s exterior after he had checked that Haytham wasn’t already sitting inside.  
He had walked through the city until now and had looked through the countless tourist shops filled with everything lemon; lemon liquor, lemon ceramic, lemon soap and lemon sweets.  
Countless waiters had asked him in the finest English if he wanted to sit down and have a limoncello or an espresso. He realized that the town completely depended on tourists from all over the world, and he was surprised about the amount of different languages that he picked up in the narrow streets.  
After ordering some soda, Connor took out the map and tried to figure out where he had been while wandering around, and where he might want to go later. Overall, he felt better after those hours of being alone and being able to breathe freely and not think about anything at all.  
“Excuse me?”  
Looking up from the map, Connor noticed a young woman standing by his table. She gave an insecure smile and nodded towards the map.  
“You speak English?”  
Connor simply nodded, and she continued to talk. “Sorry. I just saw the map. I think I got kinda lost and my phone… you know, the free WIFI here and there only gets you _so_ far. Can I take a quick look?”  
Reluctantly, Connor moved the map closer to her.  
“Thanks.”, she said, pulling up a chair and taking a seat.  
Glancing around, Connor hoped she would leave soon; being unwilling to talk to strangers.  
“Is this where we are?”  
She pointed at the cross Haytham had made. Connor nodded once more.  
“I guess you’re not Italian. I mean, because of the map. Where’re you from?”  
“States.”  
“Really? Cool. Me too. Where? I’m from New York.”  
“Boston.” He eyed her with annoyance, wondering if she didn’t understand that he wasn’t in the mood for small talk.  
“No way! That’s some coincidence, isn’t it? I’m here with a few friends, but they stayed at the hotel because it was late last night.” She laughed. “Are you waiting for your girlfriend?”  
“I don’t have…” Only then he realized that this might be a mistake.  
“Really? I’m not sure I can believe that.” She laughed again and Connor was about to say that he was still not interested, when he noticed someone stepping close. Guessing it was the waiter, he glanced up just to find Haytham’s grey eyes resting on him.  
But before he got a chance to say anything, the other bowed down and pressed a brief kiss to his lips.  
“Have you waited long, dear?”, he said as he towered over Connor and glared at the girl, who made cow eyes and slowly slid the map back to Connor.  
“I’ve changed my mind. Let’s go somewhere else.”, Haytham added and practically pulled the young man with him. Connor wanted to protest, especially since he had already ordered soda and hadn’t picked up the map again, but in the next moment they were in some narrow backyard with Connor trapped between Haytham and a wall.  
"Anyone would do, huh?", Haytham said angrily, arms crossed. It took Connor a moment to understand to what he was referring, and he felt sick once he did.  
"What? No, we were just talking... She wanted to see the map; she was lost…", he explained and wondered why he even felt the need to do so.  
"You were flirting with her."  
"I don't even... know how that works."  
"Well, it works exactly like that."  
Shaking his head, Connor hugged himself and realized that he wasn’t the one at fault here. "I didn’t do anything wrong.”, he let out defensively. “I told you yesterday that I’m… that it was closure. Don’t kiss me. If I wanted to flirt with her, it would’ve been okay! Don't act now like I'm yours or anything!"  
Haytham clenched his jaw, and Connor could see that he was struggling for words.  
"Aren't you?", the older man eventually asked darkly.  
Wishing that he didn’t feel like crying again, Connor shook his head. “No! No I’m not. You threw me away. Now you don’t get to be jealous.”  
“Is that what you think happened?”  
“No, it’s what _actually_ happened!”, he retorted and angrily wiped away a tear. “You left me, and then you left me again. And yesterday you cheated with me on your wife.”  
“Why did you do it with me yesterday if you’re not mine anymore?”  
“Because I’m an idiot.”, he said, his voice wavering. _Because I missed you. Because I still love you._ “Don't think I don't know that you've had plenty of people in that apartment! I'm not the first affair you're having, and probably not the last. I don't want that, don't you get that? I don’t want to be your affair. I can’t take it. I’m never gonna be better when I keep… keep degrading myself b-by allowing you to make me your affair. I can’t take being thrown away over and over again. You can’t be m-married and fuck me, and have affairs and then be possessive! You can’t! I’m not a toy! You know, I was doing so _well,_ and now I’m miserable again…” He sobbed. “I shouldn’t have come here… I get that when I was seventeen you t-thought it was the right thing to do; to send me away, but it wasn’t! It has been the wrong choice every single time. Sure, it's wrong to lust after your teenage son, and it would’ve been wrong to keep him around when you wanna fuck him. It would’ve been wrong to cancel your engagement to keep up an illicit sexual relationship with your kid. It would’ve been wrong to bind s-someone to you who is still young and dependent; fragile and mentally ill. But every single time it would've been what I wanted. You never asked what I wanted! I… I was so alone. I n-needed you to help me through this, but you were off marrying some woman, who you’re already cheating on. Like with Mom! You’re… you’re a l-liar and a cheater.”  
By now, the tears were flowing freely, and sobs shook his broad frame. “I wish I had been different back then. Maybe you c-could’ve loved me.”, it escaped him, even though he wanted to stay mad at the other; finally voicing all the accusations that had accumulated during the past day. But now he was just tired and devastated; unable to keep the words from pouring from him. “I’m not a savage, you know. I wish I was as feral as you think; as you would like me to be. But I’m not! I’m also not pure anymore. I tried being with others, b-but I couldn’t do it. I’m constantly trying to be someone… something I’m n-not! I’m s-still just repulsive. Still… repulsive.”  
When Haytham pulled him in his arms, Connor weakly struggled, but eventually allowed the embrace and leaned onto the other; crying and wetting his father’s shirt.  
After he had calmed down a bit, Connor remained in the other’s arms; wanting to be mad at him, but all he felt was tiredness.  
“I’m sorry, Connor.”  
The young man pulled away slowly and looked at the other with reddened eyes. He wanted to say that this wasn’t enough, that a simple sorry couldn’t make up for the years of pain.  
Haytham’s expression was illegible; angry if anything.  
“Come, let’s get home. I’ll try to explain myself if you want to hear it.”

They sat on the patio after another awkward drive in silence. Connor’s lips were still tingling from the brief kiss, and he wished there was an explanation for Haytham’s behavior after all.  
“Well…”, the other started as they had taken a seat. His grey eyes once more searched for the horizon and rested on the blue sea of the Bay of Naples.  
“You’re right. Yesterday was a mistake. I was weak to your advances; I reckon I owe you an apology after all. It was simply too tempting to… to touch you; after all those years…”  
He glanced at Connor briefly, who hugged himself and defied the urge to go and wash his hands. And even though the young man had thought he had wanted to hear this, now he wasn’t feeling any better.  
“After… after I sent you to boarding school”, Haytham started again, and he sounded unwilling. “I buried myself in work. For one thing, I thought you despised me, and I was also glad to take my mind off… well, you.” He sighed, obviously not too comfortable with talking about this. “Based on some… older reports, I dove deeper in an earlier project of mine, which involved an art treasure which had been found by the Bourbons in the 18th century during their excavations in Pompeii and which vanished soon after.”  
With a hint of confusion, Connor interrupted him. “An art treasure? But… you do… you’re a businessman in an entertainment company.”  
Leaning back a little, Haytham looked at him with a bitter amusement. “Yes. But our company does many things. This specific art treasure would help many of our other projects if we could find it and do some, well, research.”  
Connor nodded but still, he didn’t quite understand the importance of some old relic to Haytham’s company.  
“So, anyways; I got in contact with Lucrezia’s brothers, who were also looking for this piece of art, and I met her when I went down to Naples for the first time.”  
There was a pause, and Connor looked at the other with a clouded expression; waiting to hear how Haytham fell in love with her; how he wanted normalcy; how nice it was to be with a woman; with someone who was normal and pure and not repulsive…  
“But I couldn’t trust them.”  
Haytham’s gaze returned to Connor, and for a moment their eyes locked. Then the young man bowed his head to look at his hands. “What do you mean?”  
“I couldn’t be sure they wouldn’t keep it for themselves upon finding it.”  
“Is it that valuable?”  
“Yes. Priceless, really.”  
“Is this why you married her?”  
Giving a brief, joyless smile as Connor looked up at him again, Haytham gave a short nod. “I suppose-“  
“You left me for someone you don’t even love?”  
“Connor…”  
“That’s even _worse.”_ Connor hugged himself even tighter; his mind running off with cruel thoughts; _that’s how much it meant to him; that’s how much I’m worth in his eyes…_ _Yes, this is how he looks at relationships; just taking what he wants; not caring one bit about other people's feelings; least of all mine._  
Sighing, Haytham sat up straight again. “I guess I know what you’re thinking, but I can’t stress the importance of this artifact getting in the _right_ hands to use its… its knowledge properly. And since this was the first strong lead we had in _years_ I couldn’t let it slip away.”  
“Does she think you love her?”  
Another sigh passed his lips. “I reckon so.”  
Shaking his head, Connor wondered how some piece of art could ever be this important; could be the excuse for such ruthless behavior; faking years of marriage and leaving the one person really loving and needing you behind without a second thought.  
“Well; in my defense, at that time I thought I had lost my family; you because of my… my _longing;_ and it was a… a relief to have a _purpose_ again. I admit I didn't feel... much at all, really. After I had lost the two of you.” He paused and took a deep breath. “I had someone looking out for you, ever since you left home. And-“  
“Like, a private detective?”  
“Yes, more or less. And-”  
“So you spied on me?”  
“No, no. He… he gave me your address, for a start. And I came to say goodbye to you, or to… well, to close that chapter of our past. Ah, you know how _that_ went.”  
Swallowing hard, Connor had difficulties to process all of that; not knowing how to feel about any of it. All in all it didn’t feel better knowing the truth than knowing nothing.  
“I had already… set up everything. The wedding was planned, so was the trip to Italy to find out where the artifact vanished to. We had some leads, and Lu’s brothers were willing to let me in on their progress of finding the… the artifact; since I was capable; since I was family. After that evening at your’s I almost called it off, but…”  
“I wasn’t important enough.”, Connor said tonelessly before he could stop himself.  
“I beg you, don’t think that. It was quite on the contrary that you were…” Haytham hesitated for a moment and as the young man looked at him, he could see that the other wasn’t too happy about talking about any of this. “That you were _so_ important that I let go of you.”  
Again, he paused and ran a hand over his face as he glanced briefly at his son, who remained silent; not knowing what to feel. “I know it sounds… nonsensical to you, but hear me out. I’m not… used not to get what I want, really; that much I may admit. I need my affairs in order, I need things to go my way, and my way _only._ With you… it has always been different. When you were born, I was quite shocked to find myself thinking your life is worth more than mine; thinking that for your well-being I’d give everything. When you were seventeen, I sent you away because I wanted you to be safe. From the coach; and from me. And that evening… I stood in front of your door and I could hear the water running; knowing that you were trying to wash me away; to wash away what I had just done to you. And I understood that I would hurt you by leaving. I knew you might hate me for leaving you when you thought you needed me most. But truth is, you didn’t need me. What you needed was to get away from me to see yourself again; I didn’t know how long it would take for you to see that; to see that you’re strong and attractive; neither repulsive nor disgusting in _any_ way. I chose to leave because I knew it would be worse if I stayed. I went to London, and I went to Italy, and I worked and worked and worked my arse off. I would stay up late and work through sources and documents; I would travel Italy and quite literally unearth new leads; I would talk to Lu’s brothers about work, and that was my life without you.” He closed his eyes for a moment, and Connor was about to protest and say that he _did_ need him; that it hadn’t been Haytham’s choice alone to decide whether or not it was better to stay or leave. But before he could do so, Haytham continued to talk. “And still, I… I missed you. Sometimes I regretted that decision. I hoped you were better though; finding someone who is… worthy of you.” He sighed. “Yes, I had affairs. I had young men who resembled you. It would ease the longing so much that I could deny it even being there.” He sighed again and let his eyes roam over the sea; as if searching for his story right there in the rhythm of the waves rolling. “And then I was notified that you had called. I was surprised, but you sounded better, and I… I thought maybe this is it and I’m going to get back my son. Maybe we can be together as a family again, I thought. Of course I was a fool. Because when I saw you at the airport, I knew I still wanted you. That I never stopped wanting you; that I had men who looked a bit like you; acted a bit like you. But I told myself that we _can’t._ That _I_ can’t have you. I have my mission, and I am married, even though for the wrong reasons. And you… I know you can’t cling to the past any longer because it would eventually break you. So I didn’t want you to kiss me. But I also couldn’t resist the prospect of touching you; really touching you after all those years; after the last time having all that plastic and latex between us.” Shaking his head a little, he clenched his jaw. “And then you said those things when we had sex, and I was… I admit I was angry. Jealous even. And it still hurt; hearing that you had many people see you like that. That’s why I couldn’t stand you flirting with that girl today.” He looked at Connor intensely. “I wanted to monopolize you, possess you. Make you all mine. I’m still selfish enough for not watching you with someone else while you’re here.”  
With another heavy sigh leaving his lips, Haytham got up. Connor watched him with his heart aching; not knowing what to do or think; everything just seemed like a blur, and he wondered if there was any way out of this mess with his father still in his life.  
When Haytham held out something to him, Connor took it with confusion, only then realizing it was the car key.  
“If you want to leave, you can take the car to the airport. You’re not trapped here. Well, good night.”  
Connor wanted to say something, ask him to wait and talk this over again, but he silently watched the other get into the house and vanish from his sight.

He sat on the patio for a while longer; the sun was still up and hung low over the ocean; suffusing the landscape with surreal pastel colors. Eventually, he got up and walked into the kitchen, where he downed a glass of water and stood there for a few minutes; listening to the silence of the house; wondering what Haytham was doing for he surely hadn’t headed to bed just yet.  
Trying to keep his mind devoid of the violent vortex of thoughts and feelings welling up, he went to the guest room and started packing his things. When he got into the car, he looked back at the villa and thought it looked isolated; alone amidst the orchards of olive and lemon trees that spread over the mountainsides.  
However, he didn’t take the route towards Naples and the airport; he went in the opposite direction; following the winding paths of the beautiful Amalfitana right beside the ocean. Now and then he parked the car in the narrow emergency bays that provided the only parking stops for miles and watched the sun sink lower; eventually vanishing behind the horizon accompanied by bright shades of pink and gold, and soon the stars took over the sky.  
Connor drove past idyllic cities adorning mountain slopes, past caves and islands; orchards and beaches. When it was night already, he reached a larger town with a wider bay; providing parking spots along the road that lined the beach. Tired, he parked the car and leaned back in the driver’s seat; feeling numb and exhausted.

 _Haytham had put an arm around him, and Connor could feel the other’s warmth against his body; soothing a distant ache that he didn’t quite understand anymore. They sat in front of their tent in the Italian mountains, and the night sky was clear and starry. Looking up at the stars, Connor snuggled closer to the other; only now noticing the blanket draped over them._  
_The other turned his head to look at the young man, and Connor could feel Haytham’s faint breath on his neck; having him shudder as he averted his eyes to look at his father. For a moment, they just looked into each other’s eyes and Connor believed to see the stars reflected in them, but he knew it couldn’t be._  
_When he leaned in for a soft kiss, his heart seemed to overflow; and then, suddenly, he was crying, even though he didn’t know why. When he pulled back and directed his eyes to the stars again, he caught a glimpse of a shooting star briefly crossing the black sky._  
_“Make a wish.”, he could hear Haytham’s dark voice._  
I want to be the only one for you., _he thought._

Connor startled up because someone was tapping at his window. At first he was worried that it was police because he was sleeping in his parked car without a parking ticket or anything of the like, but instead he saw the friendly face of someone selling fruit.  
It was early in the morning, and a diffuse light made its way through the heavy clouds floating over the ocean.  
The young man slowly let the window down and eyed the fruit.

A few minutes later, he sat on the beach and ate strawberries. It was a stony beach with pebbles faintly clinking in the rhythm of the waves. He thought about the dream he had had, and how painful it was to imagine a world in which it could have been just like that; him and Haytham peacefully together, enjoying a vacation in Italy or elsewhere; simply adoring each other and happily spending moments together. _I wanted to monopolize you, possess you. Make you all mine._ He shook his head. _Why didn’t you?,_ Connor thought with a bitterness overcoming him. _Why did you neither do what I wanted, nor what you wanted? Couldn’t it be so easy? Didn’t they want the same thing?_

The way back seemed harder than just driving somewhere without any real destination, and it took Connor a long while until he reached the villa. It was still early, and the house was silent when he entered it.  
Haytham was neither in the kitchen nor on the patio, so Connor eventually made his way noiselessly to the bedroom, where he found him still asleep.  
He looked peaceful, the young man mused with a dull jealousy accompanying his thoughts; wishing he was the one to see him like this every day.  
Crawling onto the bed carefully, he hoped his father wouldn't wake up now so he could enjoy this rare moment just a bit longer; not wanting to voice his thoughts just yet because they still seemed to very vague and chaotic. Still, after the night of contemplation and dreams, he was certain of what he wanted; he just wasn’t sure of his father’s answer.  
For a second, he just lay there next to the other, watching Haytham's peaceful expression and hating the thought of this sight being Lu's privilege; of her being able to see this every morning.  
Slowly, Connor moved closer; snuggling up to the other and putting one arm around him; breathing in the other's vague scent along with something unfamiliar that the young man wished wasn't there. Haytham gave a soft groan when Connor moved closer, but still didn't open his eyes. The young man wondered how late it had been last night that his ever punctual father slept in like this.  
Caressing the revealed chest, Connor pressed soft kisses to his father's jaw and neck; his hand wandering slowly further down, with his fingertips eventually slipping beneath the tight boxer shorts.  
Only now Haytham sleepily opened his eyes and looked at him; seemingly not too surprised to find Connor by his side.  
"Good morning, father.", the boy muttered, not pulling away his fingers.  
“I thought you left.”, Haytham said; his grey eyes still clouded by tiredness and distant dreams.  
“I just… needed some time to think about what you said.”  
Giving a sleepy hum, Haytham seemed to consider the hand down his pants. “I’m not sure I fully understand your response.”  
With a weak smile on his lips, Connor leaned in, pressing a light kiss to the other’s lips.  
“Connor…”  
“You know, I mean what I said. I don’t want to be your affair. I… I want a normal life with you; as far as that is possible with… us being… you know. I want to have a house, I don’t even care where. I want to wake up next to you like this, have a quickie in the shower before we leave for work; a dog. I can wait for it until you’re… you’re done here. You can't to stay with your wife after you get that stupid art thing. I can accept that you need to finish this, even though I don’t understand any of it. I will leave later today and catch the next flight to Rome and from there on I’ll get home as soon as I can. You said you can’t watch me be with someone else, and neither can I watch you being with _her._ But I will wait and I will get better; hopefully being able to forget the past. I can forgive you for leaving me even though I did need you. From now on I want you to talk about those things, instead just doing what _you_ feel is right for me. I for my part have to forgive myself as well and accept who I am, not aiming for something I’m not. I’ll gladly be yours then. But you have to promise me right now.”  
“Connor…”  
“I mean it. I don’t want to be your affair ever again. I want to be the only one for you.” He paused for a second and just looked into his father’s grey eyes. “Don’t you want to be with me anymore? Was it just lies you told me yesterday?”  
After a second of hesitation, Haytham answered gravely, “No. You know I do.”  
“Then promise me.”  
The older man sighed; running a hand over his face before he said, “Fine. I promise. Just not the dog just yet, alright?”  
With a smile, Connor leaned in closer again, pressing kiss after kiss to his father’s cheek and neck; eventually breathing out, “Let’s do it. One last time before I leave, and wait for you to return to me. One memory of us being together like this without anything messing it up." And after a pause, he added, “I love you.” Only after a second he realized what he had uttered just now, and he held his breath for a moment. They looked at each other in silence, and the young man believed that his father’s expression had softened. Slowly, he breathed out and muttered, “Claim me and I’ll remain yours until you’ve finished your mission; then you have to return to me and claim me again.”  
His fingers proceeded to wander down just a bit further; caressing the other’s cock until he was able to give him a few good strokes; eyeing Hayham’s expression closely.  
“Connor… maybe we shouldn’t-“  
“I know I want this; please, let me have just this one _sweet_ moment to take with me…”  
Groaning faintly, Haytham closed his eyes as Connor proceeded to give his cock determined strokes; his thumb flicking over the tip and his lips searching for the other’s. Haytham returned the kiss reluctantly, and eventually he stopped Connor’s hand moving against his erection.  
“Claim you? And how do you think that looks like?”, he asked darkly as he broke away from the kiss and looked into the young man’s dark eyes.  
Connor blushed. “I just meant…”, he started but fell silenced; actually not having had a specific thing in mind; just wanting to know that he belonged; that Haytham would come back to him.  
A mocking smile appeared on Haytham’s lips as he leaned over the boy. He seemed to enjoy taking over control again; and Connor could feel his heart beating faster at the prospect of finally being with the other without anything ruining it; of there being a bright spark of hope at the horizon.  
“Oh, I’ll claim you.”, Haytham breathed out and reached to unzip the young man’s pants. Pulling them down, he leaned over Connor and let his gaze run over his body appreciatively; pushing up the shirt and tracing the line of his chest and stomach down to his half-hard cock with two fingers. Giving a soft groan, the young man couldn’t tear away his gaze from the other’s well-proportioned body; of his muscular chest and his erection beneath his tight boxer shorts.  
“Spread your legs.”, Haytham demanded, and Connor obeyed; being vaguely reminded of the first time they had slept with each other; glad to be less ashamed now; his heart aching because now, they would do it skin on skin with their lips locked in a kiss and hands roaming freely over each other’s body.  
“This shall be sufficient.” Reaching for the nightstand, Haytham had produced some lotion, which he poured in the palm of his hand and then slicked his fingers. He looked up at Connor, who bit his lips in anticipation, and then ran a finger over the young man’s cock down to his balls and only stopped when he reached his twitching entrance; circling it in slow motions and teasingly pressing against it without pushing in.  
With the small, mocking smile still lingering on his flushed lips, Haytham leaned over Connor and watched him squirm; his thumb rubbing the sensitive, slick skin at the base of the young man’s cock and his middle and ring finger just pressing against the tight muscles with enough pressure to let Connor anticipate the moment he would push in even more.  
“You’ll be mine.”, Haytham muttered, revealing a wolfish grin, and for a moment, Connor couldn’t breathe because something close to happiness suffused him entirely. When his father pushed the two fingers into him, it caught him off guard thanks to that remark, and he couldn’t suppress a soft gasp.  
Moving them knowingly, Haytham leaned in and pressed a kiss to Connor’s temple; to his nose and forehead before his parted lips were once more pressed hungrily against the other’s; sucking and biting with their tongues moving against each other and licking over lips and teeth in a frenzied attempt to connect.  
When Haytham had added a third finger and pushed them into the young man’s body, his lips moved down with small bites and kisses; apparently all too determined to leave marks.  
Clasping the blanket, Connor enjoyed the attentions and could feel precome wetting his stomach; simply being unable to hold back since for the first time in his life, he felt like he could really enjoy this; could allow intimacy.  
Sucking slightly, Hatham left faint hickeys on Connor’s throat and neck; only eventually pulling back enough to eye the other.  
“Heavens, lad…”, he said lowly as he let his gaze run over his son’s body musingly. “You certainly are a sight to behold.”  
And as Connor blushed at the remark, he reached for the drawer again and got condoms; ripping open one wrapper and freeing his cock from his shorts to put it on and slick himself.  
After placing his son’s legs around his waist, he aligned himself with the other’s entrance but didn’t push in instantly.  
“What I meant was…”, he said, looking up and locking eyes with Connor. Again, the young man thought that Haytham seemed almost angry; wondering if he was still holding back. “That you look beautiful.”  
With that, he moved forward, and Connor clenched up tight around him; his mind spinning with the compliment, and the feeling of being loved intoxicating him pleasantly. Giving needy moans when his father started moving, he dug his heels into the other’s back demandingly; wanting to feel him deeper; wanting the rhythm of their lovemaking push him into lustful ecstasy; letting him forget everything except for Haytham.  
Moving a bit rougher, Haytham complied with the young man urging him deeper; readjusting his position a few times before he seemed to like the effect it had on Connor. The young man’s cheeks were flushed and tears escaped his dark, glassy eyes; moans and begs for the other to do him harder passing over his lips plentiful. Jolting with pleasure and stimulation, his body trembled and when he put his arms around his father, he held tightly onto him with his fingers scratching over Haytham’s back.  
Hissing, the older man just picked up the pace and eventually leaned down to sink his teeth into the young man’s neck.  
Crying out, Connor clenched up tight around his father’s cock and almost came already; his fingernails scraping over the other’s skin as he tried to get his reactions under control again.  
When Haytham pulled away and licked his lips and teeth, he did so with a grin; making it clear that Connor was _claimed_ now.  
Moaning shamelessly, the young man shuddered and felt the blood rush through his veins; felt the bite mark pulsate with a dull yet not unpleasant pain.  
“Next time, I’ll let you ride me.”, Haytham said breathlessly, his eyes dark with want as he looked at his son. “I want you on my lap and I want to see your face when you move your hips and take me deep.”  
Within his blissful state, Connor just let out another lewd moan that was meant to pose as an answer.  
Grabbing his father’s hair, the young man pulled him down for another kiss as he moved his hips and thus signaled him to stop talking and start moving more again.  
Haytham let out a breathless little laugh before he crashed their lips together again, and held tightly onto Connor’s hips as he picked up the pace once more and let the body beneath him tremble with pleasure flooding through him.  
By now, their kiss was a breathless amalgamation of moans and smaller kisses; sloppily wetting their lips and just adding to the frenzied ecstasy of them forgetting everything around them.  
When the young man came and bucked up with a hoarse, strangled mixture of cry and gasp, Haytham was pushed over the edge as well; thrusting into the young man's body one last time as he breathed out another pleasured moan that resembled his son’s name.  
Breathing heavily, they pulled apart, and Haytham took a second before he reached down and got rid of the condom.  
Connor rolled onto his side and ignored his sticky skin; reaching up to let his fingertips run over the mark on his neck. “Thank you.”, he muttered, a small smile appearing on his lips; for a second believing that everything would be well soon. Haytham lay beside him and their eyes locked for a long moment in which they simply appreciated each other and the intimacy they had shared. When the older man opened his mouth to respond, a motion at the corner of their eyes caught their attention, and when they turned their heads in unison, a familiar shape appeared in the doorframe.

“Sorry to interrupt you, boys, but I don’t have that much time.”, Lucrezia said, seemingly neither surprised nor embarrassed by the sight. “I thought I could let you fuck your brains out for a couple of days, but unfortunately, there is no time for that. I came to get my _husband.”_  
In shock, Connor hadn’t even reached for anything to cover himself with; his mind just spinning; wondering for how long she had been there, but he knew that there was nothing that they could excuse this situation with.  
“Good thing that you haven’t outlived your usefulness just yet.“, she said directed at Haytham with a cruel little smile playing around her lips. Only now Connor understood that she wasn’t about to throw a fit about her husband’s unfaithfulness; that this was going somewhere else entirely.  
“Come now. Get dressed. And don’t think I’m asking.” With that, she revealed a small handgun, but instead of pointing it at Haytham, she pointed it at Connor. “Don’t try anything. You know I’d shoot him.”  
Slowly, Haytham got up; glancing at Connor briefly before he reached for the drawer and produced fresh clothes that he put on hesitantly. When he slowly walked up to Lucrezia, she handed him cuffs. “Put these on.” As he complied, she let out a joyless laugh.  
“I knew he wasn’t really your son.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You might have guessed it: That "artifact" is a piece of Eden. No wonder Lucrezia and Haytham are rather interested in getting their hands on it...


	7. Deceived

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally got around to finish the last bit of the story, sorry for the wait!!  
> I decided to split it up into two Chapters, due to its length. However, since everything's done, I will post the second part in a day or so, after it has been beta-read. uwu  
> Thank you so much for your comments and kudos; that really kept me going!! <3 I'm incredibly grateful for your feedback and interest in the story! I hope you like the end... :')

“I knew it from the moment you entered the kitchen, kid.”, Lucrezia said, glancing arrogantly at Connor, who fervently tried to think of something to intervene; still unsure as of what exactly was going on.  
“The looks you two exchanged were _so_ obvious.” She rolled her eyes and then looked back at Haytham with a sneer. “Well, during the drive, you can tell me all about the game you were playing, but bringing along your lover really ruined it for you, I gotta tell you, love.”  
Pushing the gun into Haytham’s back, she urged him forwards but stopped before they were out of Connor’s sight. Turning back to him once more, she added, “I’m not gonna return him to you, kid. But he’ll be just fine, as long as I don’t see you come running after us. Don’t try anything if you want him to remain unharmed. Understood? I’d hate to ruin my husband by putting a bullet in him.”  
Nodding reluctantly, Connor clasped the sheets and watched as they left.

After a moment of hesitation and helplessness, he got up from the bed and ignored his weak knees as he carefully walked up to the window and peeked out of it; seeing how Lucrezia and Haytham entered an unfamiliar red car, with which she had apparently come to the villa.  
Taking a few deep breaths, Connor tried to keep a clear head; his mind spinning and the urge to shower or at least wash his hands welling up in him powerfully. _No time for a panic attack_ , he told himself as he shook his head and took another deep breath; counting to five before opening his eyes again. There were just two possible directions in which Lucrezia could go from here on; into the direction of Naples, or to the Amalfitana. Connor stood there for a while longer; carefully watching were they turned to.

Only a few minutes later he sat back in the car that he had left mere hours earlier, even though it felt like that had been days ago. He had gotten dressed as quickly as possible; not even bothering to clean himself up; now and then only stopping to take a deep breath and remind himself that it was important for him not to panic.  
With shaky hands he started the car and followed into the direction of Naples that Lucrezia had turned towards.  
For a few miles there were little possibilities to take a different route for the small streets leading away from the highway only lead to distant villas and orchards, but Connor still tried to pay as much attention as possible; keeping his eyes peeled for the red car that the two had vanished in.  
He wasn’t sure if it really was a good idea to follow them; not only had Lucrezia threatened to hurt Haytham only upon Connor following, but all in all, it seemed like it wasn’t her plan to hurt him at all. Still; her not wanting to _return_ him was enough for Connor to still follow at their heels; not willing to lose his father for good; not now; not after everything that had happened. He tried not to think ahead; what he was supposed to do once he caught up with them, but he told himself that there had to be enough time to figure it out _then._

The winding street went on for miles, and Connor was tired of stopping every now and then; trying to figure out if they had left the road or not; panic spreading in him as he felt his father slip away once more. The sun was already bright and hot, even though it was barely noon. Only a few clouds drifted lazily over the sky now; slowly revealing a brilliant blue over the ocean which always accompanied the horizon whenever Connor looked to the left; betraying in its peacefulness the distress that still made the young man dizzy with anxiety; letting his skin itch, and the urge to stop somewhere in order to wash himself was getting more powerful with every passing minute.  
Then, as he rounded a sharp curve amidst a quiet olive orchard on an opulent mountain slope, he spotted the red car; dark break marks leading to the automobile at the side of the road; crashed against one of the trees with its hood deformed and steam escaping from under the bent metal.  
Stopping immediately and not even putting the hazard lights on, Connor bit his lips in panic as he left the car and hurried towards the other automobile with adrenaline rushing through him.  
However, when he got close, he could see that there was only one person still sitting in the car; and it wasn’t Haytham.  
Opening the passenger door, he looked at Lucrezia in the driver’s seat; cuffed to the steering wheel but otherwise apparently unharmed.  
She mustered a teeth baring grin as she saw him. “About time.”, she said; again seemingly unsurprised by the young man having followed them despite her threats.  
“Where is he?” There was a part of him that wondered why Haytham hadn’t turned back after freeing himself; vaguely hoping that he was alright.  
“On his way to Capri.”  
And when Connor turned around to get back to his car, she shouted after him, “Wait!”  
“Why would I?”  
“Because you don’t know where he’s going. I do.”  
“I’ll figure it out. He can’t be too far ahead; he doesn’t have a car, does he?”  
“He’s in danger!”  
Turning around, Connor clenched his jaw. “How so?”  
“My brothers are waiting for us. He doesn’t know that. If he shows up without me, they’ll assume the worst. They won’t talk much; they’ll kill him if they think he harmed me.”  
“Then call and tell them you’re ok.”, Connor responded reluctantly; not willing to give in.  
“I can’t. They’re in a basement. There’s no reception. We have to find him before he gets there.”  
Taking a deep breath, he returned to the crashed car.  
“Fine. But you have to tell me everything you know.”

Soon they sat in Haytham’s car; Connor had forcefully freed Lucrezia from the steering wheel; but she was still cuffed by her hands for he had not bothered to break up the cuffs themselves; guessing it might be better to keep her somewhat under control; there was something about her that made his skin crawl; a certain ruthlessness that made it hard for him to trust her.  
“Why…" He cleared his throat. "Why did you come to get him? Why threaten him? I thought you wanted the same thing.”, Connor asked as he started the car.  
“Well… that’s an awful lot you want me to explain, kid.” She sighed theatrically. “So, he sent me the solution to the code we had encountered; he must have worked it out last night. This information fit in perfectly with what I had found out on my trip to Napoli; one of the Camorra mafia-esque dudes had an old archive book that I could get my hands on after _persuading_ him to tell me where it was. So, with the code I could identify where the apple is now.”  
“Apple?” Connor made a face as he glanced at Lucrezia. “Is that the artifact he has been talking about?”  
She laughed, and Connor hated it; already regretting that he had taken her with him.  
“Yes. I assume it is.”, she said after a moment; highly amused.  
“Why is this thing so damn important?”, it escaped Connor as he glanced at the woman next to him.  
“You don’t know?” Lucrezia let out another short, mocking laugh. “Well, I guess Haytham _really_ wanted it just for himself the whole time. And even though I knew that, I liked those past years.” She looked over at him and smirked. “He can be so charming, can’t he? And he’s good in bed as well, right? It was _fun._ I don’t regret the time we have been married. Actually… I thought we could continue. We could have changed the world. And, let’s be real, I mean, he _really_ has a big d-“  
“Stop!” Connor clenched his jaw; trying to keep a clear head. “You didn’t answer my questions.”  
She laughed. “Ah, poor kid. You really are into him. Too bad for you; if he has to choose between you and the apple, you’ll always lose. That’s just how it is. You’re probably a nice fuck, too, but just as he did me, he’ll drop you, too.”  
He clutched the steering wheel tightly and was suddenly reminded of that time in the car with his father when he was seventeen; thinking that only now he understood how much it had hurt Haytham to see him with the coach; having his first time with him.  
“Tell me. Tell me why it is so important to him.”  
She sighed. “Well, it’s an ancient technology, to keep it short. The holder can control minds with it.”  
Connor couldn’t help but laugh; it seemed ridiculous for his father to hunt after something like this; after some fairytale.  
“You laugh, but it’s true.”  
“Why are you so sure?”  
“There have been other pieces just like this one. Being able to hold one yourself must be…” She fell silent, and the young man glanced over at her before returning his eyes to the street.  
“He wants to control minds.” He said, his tone revealing how little he could believe this.  
“I don’t know if _he_ wants to be the one holding the thing. I’m sure he thinks he’ll do the world a favor by using it in his company. I think he mentioned something with a satellite, or whatever.”  
Shaking his head, Connor was rather sure that this wasn’t the truth.  
“And why did you threaten him? Why not just tell him that you know where the apple is. Or… get it without him.”  
She snorted. “You’re naïve, kid. If I could’ve gotten it without his help, I would’ve. But he has some valuable qualities; he’s a resourceful man. The place where the artifact seems to be now might include more coding; we’ve come across this before.”  
“Hasn’t he given you the solution to that?”  
Again, she let out a short, joyless laugh that irritated Connor the most. “You don’t understand, kid. This isn’t some sort of children’s play. This artifact has been travelling all over Italy for many decades; changing its owner and protector many times. The code Haytham has been working on for over a year is from the early 19th century, and guess what? If the artifact isn’t where it is according to this 200 year old source, I’m sure I’ll need his _expertise_ again. Just some reassurance for future projects. Also, he’d be a great pet to keep, don’t you think? I mean, he’d look great with a collar; being all angry about being ordered around. Or-“  
“Stop! Stop that.” Shaking his head slightly and trying to blink away the anger and helplessness, Connor shot her another irritated glance; wondering why she always tried to push things further; making him feel so uncomfortable.  
She grinned.  
“Why… why didn’t you just… call him. Let him meet you. Why did you threaten us? Him?”  
With a vague shake of her head, Lucrezia leaned back and watched the Italian landscape pass by as they made their way to the Sorrentine harbor from where they could leave for Capri.  
“I didn’t plan to originally. But when I arrived, I…” She trailed off, and for a moment it seemed almost as if she was at a loss for words. Then, however, she continued and suddenly, her words were just as smug and bold as before. “Well, I heard your voice first; and I was surprised because Haytham had said you had left. And you said something about that you’ll be his’ then and that he has to promise. To return to you, I gathered. And then all the fuzzy talk about you being the only one for him, blah blah blah, uh, I love you, whatever.”  
Shuddering when he realized that Lucrezia had been there for almost the whole time, Connor clasped the steering wheel tighter and took another deep breath. Again, this memory of being with Haytham was tainted.  
“And while you were undoubtedly having some steamy sex, I realized that I might want to make sure that Haytham comes with me, and doesn’t get the idea I’ll just let him leave afterwards. He sure went through some trouble pretending to have a son; and I must say, before you got here, I really believed it. He lied a lot, and I was aware of that, but… The stunt he pulled with you is fucking _remarkable._ I think he even has some photoshopped picture in his office of you as a teenie and him shooting a bow. Pah! And the minute you walked in, I still knew.”  
Almost stopping the car, Connor only barely was able to hold back the flood of emotions wanting to overwhelm him. Of course he knew that picture. That cursed camping weekend; Haytham showing him how to shoot a bow, and then, after hours of practice, they remembered how Ziio had demanded pictures for the family album. In a hurry, they had gotten the camera and with the automatic release button managed to get some photographic evidence of them actually shooting a bow. However, Connor had thought all the pictures had been lost; when he had moved back in with Haytham, he had looked for the album more than once but never found it; suspecting his mother had destroyed it after the _incident._ Now he couldn’t help but wonder where the other pictures were, pictures of Ziio; of a younger Haytham, and of himself, when his world had still been innocently happy…  
“What’s wrong with that?” She eyed him with a hint of wonder at his reaction. “Wait, that _is_ photoshopped, right?”  
When Connor didn’t answer, she seemed agitated, even though he didn’t understand why this would bother her.  
“You guys really know each other that long? Was he your coach or anything? Don’t tell me he… he already touched you back then.”  
“Stop! Don’t! Don’t talk about things like that!” Taking a deep breath, Connor tried to hold back the panic that wanted to overtake him; feeling like fourteen again; his mother’s voice becoming Lucrezia’s… _It is a repulsive thing. It's disgusting. It's wrong. You have to understand that, Connor._  
Before Lucrezia could utter another thing, the car came to a halt with screeching tires as they had reached the harbor.

Of course, Haytham and Lucrezia’s boat was gone. Somehow, it seemed like Haytham had gotten hold of some vehicle after escaping Lucrezia, and was already on his way to Capri.  
“Uncuff me and I’ll steal us a boat.”  
“Not going to happen.”  
“So, you know how to drive a boat, yes?”  
“Well, I can borrow one with a simple motor; I can handle that.”  
She laughed. “You do realize it’s more than 15km across the ocean, right?”  
When he made a face, she laughed some more. “I don’t know how many miles that are. Ten maybe. The point I’m trying to make here, kiddo, is that it will take us hours to get there with some prehistoric motorboat. Plus, we’re talking about the Golfo di Napoli here. It’s windy today and it may fuck us over. The current can be quite violent. If we take one of the neat speedboats, however, we can make it in 30 minutes. And I can handle those beasts. You wanna help him, or what?”

Soon they were crossing the deep blue sea of the Bay of Naples; nearing the famous island of Capri, for which again, Connor had no eyes. He had a headache, and the nausea made him dizzy; he was feeling terrible with the chaos in his head and heart. All the memories and emotions swirling around in him had had their fair impact; and all he wanted was for this to be over. Reaching up to touch the faint traces of where Haytham had bitten him, he thought about how he wanted to see Haytham safe; wanted to be far away from Lucrezia and preferably never see her again. She, however, seemed to be in a rather good mood considering the circumstances. After a few tries Connor had rid her of the cuffs, and now she was freely operating the speedboat she had ‘borrowed’; promising Connor that they would return it later. The way she had explained it, there was still over an hour long walk on Capri ahead of them; during which they hopefully caught up with Haytham before he reached their destination. Lucrezia hadn’t said anything about what would happen once they had found him; but Connor guessed they would all come along to look for that stupid apple artifact.

When they reached the vibrant harbor of Capri, and had fastened their boat, Connor pulled Lucrezia back. “Before we go, tell me exactly where we are headed, and how to get there. Also, I’m gonna hold your hand the whole way, since we cannot use the cuffs anymore.”  
Snorting, she eyed him with unveiled annoyance.  
“Chiesa di Santa Maria del Soccorso.", she said, and even though it sounded nice as she said it, Connor couldn’t make out a single word from the flow of Italian.  
Laughing upon seeing him make a face, she repeated the words slowly. “Chiesa di Santa Maria del Soccorso. A chapel on top of _that_ mountain.” She gestured to their left. “And we will walk up the mountain. Hell if I know the best way, but the general direction is clear. Follow the signs that say ‘Villa Jovis’ because that’s where the chapel is.”  
With that, they stumbled into the busy life of the harbor; mixing with the tourists that looked for hats and souvenirs in the shops lining the street. And even though Connor held the woman tightly by her hand, soon, she slipped from his grip and was gone; vanishing into the group of tourists that had swallowed them up.  
Cursing, he looked around; seeing tourists from all over the world; who enjoyed the rather sunny day with ice cream; buying ceramics and postcards; standing in line for boat tickets to see the Grotta Azzura.  
Not wanting to waste time while looking for Lucrezia, that cursed woman, he turned towards the next shop and asked the assistant for directions to the Villa Jovis; guessing he wasn’t the first tourist to not have a clue how to get there; simply hoping that Lucrezia hadn’t lied about this being their direction at all.  
Soon, he was hurrying up stairs after stairs; not having any money on him and hence being unable to take the _funicolare,_ a cable car that might have saved him some time getting up the mountain. He passed picture-perfect Italian houses and gardens; adorned with lemon trees, flowers and classic statues; and still, he didn’t have eyes for them; nor the deep blue sea or the scenic mountains towering above that separated Capri from Anacapri.  
With his hips hurting from their escapade earlier that morning, and his headache only getting worse, he struggled to reach the upper roads leading to the Villa Jovis. After passing an enormous gum tree that caught his eye, he took a break; looking back and taking a few breaths to calm down his galloping heart; from here being able to overlook a large portion of the island and the sea surrounding it; his heart still beating fast from the exertion and worry. Surely, Haytham would be fine. He had described his relationship to the brothers as rather friendly; maybe Lucrezia had just exaggerated to get him to take her along. Well, that had worked out _splendidly;_ and in the worst case, she had sent him somewhere completely wrong.  
Just when he was about to head on further, he heard a voice calling out for him. “Connor, _dio mio,_ you’re slow!”  
Glancing up, he could spot her on the next road junction; now wearing sunglasses that she had probably stolen, as he guessed.  
Clenching his jaw, he was both glad and not glad to see her; at least she wasn’t off to some different part of the island.  
“I thought I had lost you.”, she said with a sweet voice once he had reached her. Eyeing her with vague annoyance, he wondered what she had done in the meantime and why she had waited up for him; maybe having taken the cable car and thus gaining some advantage.  
“Why did you wait?”  
“I didn’t. I just saw you coming up, I actually thought you were ahead of me.”  
Shaking his head, Connor continued his way up; not bothering to hold her hand this time.

All in all, it took almost an hour until they were close to the villa; and so far, there was no sign of Haytham. Either he had had a bigger headstart than they had thought, or he wasn’t on Capri at all.  
It was hot, and the clouds had disappeared from the sky completely. Tiny lizards were sunbathing on the stone walls lining the path leading up the mountain; scurrying away when Connor and Lucrezia walked past them; eventually seeing the archaeological site of the Villa Jovis at the end of the path.  
“It’s the biggest of Roman Emperor Tiberius’ villas here on Capri.”, Lucrezia explained when they got closer to the ruins. “Nothing much left, though.”  
What looked like nothing much to Lucrezia, seemed like a maze to Connor; the remnants of walls adorning the hilltop, and to their right lay the sea; right behind the edge of the cliffs. It was an amazing sight that almost managed to distract Connor for a moment; he could see the distant mainland; somewhere there was Haytham’s villa, where only this morning they had enjoyed a second of peace…  
“This way.”  
Following Lucrezia further up, they had soon reached the inconspicuous chapel with a large statue in front of it. Strangely enough, they hadn’t encountered anyone in the area of the villa so far, not even a single tourist.  
The door of the chapel was open, and when they walked into the cooler interior of the small building, their steps echoed in the simple room. Connor’s heart throbbed heavily in his chest; when Haytham was already here, could it be that they were too late?  
An open trap door caught his eye and when he looked questioningly back to Lucrezia, she took off the sunglasses and nodded. There was no sounds to be heard when Connor stepped closer, and defying the first impulse to rush down, he let Lucrezia go first; still not convinced that she might trap him in there if he was to head down first.  
Following at her heel, he went down after her; the slippery stone stairs small beneath his feet. The temperature here under the chapel was freezing after their long walk in the sun outside; and Connor shuddered as he entered the dark passage that lay before them. Only now Connor hurried forwards; restless as he feared for his father’s life. The passage itself was dark and moist; but at the end there was light, and Connor made his way towards it as fast as he could without slipping on the wet stone floor.  
Pushing open the wooden door at the end of the tunnel, he suddenly stood in a large room which looked like a simple crypt or catacomb; stone pillars that didn’t look alike held up the high ceiling, and the walls were lined with small chambers in which Connor could indeed spot human remains. And still, all he had eyes for was his father; standing with his back towards him; opening up a small hollow space between two of the chambers at the end of the room. A bright flashlight that he had placed in the chamber illuminated the room.  
He turned around when Connor entered, and when their eyes met, the young man could see relief in Haytham’s eyes.  
When he was about to head towards his father and just wrap his arms around him; happy to see him safe and only vaguely wondering where Lucrezia's brothers were, something sharp scraped along his throat and a strong, slim hand gripped his shoulder tightly to hold him back.  
Baring his throat, he gave a surprised sound; feeling how the blade cut across the sensitive skin.  
He could see Haytham’s eyes widen as he opened his mouth to protest, but something seemed to silence him. Connor could feel something warm run over his neck, and it took him a moment until he realized that it was his own blood.


	8. Catharsis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to insert a ***trigger warning*** here. There is very explicit talk about abuse in this chapter. However, it does directly relate to the events of Chapter One, so you know that nothing happened during that specific camping trip. Still, please take care of yourself.

Panicky, Connor wanted to raise his hands to his throat; but then Lucrezia’s voice sounded close to his ear, “Don’t you move, kiddo. The next cut is going to be deeper, and trust me, you don’t want that.”  
Only now he fully understood that Lucrezia’s brothers weren’t here and that Haytham hadn't been in danger; that she had gotten a knife after disappearing on him, and that she had only waited up for him to use him against Haytham; to get him to hand over that cursed artifact.  
“Put your hands slowly behind your back. Don’t try anything, or you’ll regret it.” Doing as he was told, Connor could feel something being tightly wrapped around his wrists; guessing it was Lucrezia’s slim belt.  
“Good boy.”, she purred in a tone that made Connor even more nauseous. Urging him forward, she was still pressing the blade against his throat, and he felt the stickiness of his own blood on his skin; swallowing hard and trying to ignore the stinging pain from the cut.  
Haytham was watching them with an alert posture as they came closer, and when Connor wondered if he had the gun Lucrezia had threatened them with earlier, she seemed to think of it, too. “Hand me the gun, Haytham, or I’ll slit his throat right now. Sure, you can try to shoot me afterwards, but he’ll be gone no matter what, and I still might get the artifact.”  
Reluctantly, Haytham reached behind himself, where he seemed to have kept the gun tucked beneath his belt.  
“Slowly, love.”  
Slowing his movements, Haytham produced the gun and held it out to Lucrezia with the butt first.  
“Good.”  
Snatching it from his hands, she didn’t move the knife from Connor’s throat one bit.  
There they stood; illuminated by the cold glow of the flashlight; the only sounds audible being the drips of water falling down from the ceiling in a steady rhythm. Connor wanted to apologize to his father; not having wanted to serve as blackmailing material in the race for this stupid artifact; but he didn't dare to talk with the blade still pressed tightly against his throat.  
“Hand it over to me.”, Lucrezia demanded.  
“I can’t do that.”, Haytham said slowly, and his deep voice sounded hollow in the echo of the crypt.  
“If you don’t, I’ll kill him.”  
And still, Haytham didn’t move; his face pained as he clenched his fists.  
“Say something, kid. Tell him how much you love him.”, Lucrezia whispered into Connor’s ear, and the young man shuddered with anxiety and disgust.  
“I’m sorry.”, he mumbled; closing his eyes for a moment; wondering how everything could have led up to this; him dying in a crypt in Italy; chasing after his father for so many years; being caught in his self-loathing for all this time; and eventually, _this_ was how it all came crashing down onto him…  
Opening his eyes again, he saw how Haytham reached into the opening and produced a small metal box; dirty and eroded, but nevertheless well-crafted and once certainly beautiful.  
With hesitation, Haytham’s eyes wandered over the surface of the box, maybe trying to determine if it really contained what they had been searching for.  
_“Hand it over.”_  
Glancing up at them, Haytham’s eyes seemed dark. “Lu, this is too important for your games; this won’t get you the respect of your brothers; won't just restore the name of your family. This has to stay in the right hands, and I don’t even mean mine; our _cause,_ Lu, our cause is more important than personal entanglement; this is more than I am, more than you are. This could change the world for the better, don’t you see that?”  
Connor groaned when he felt the blade digging into the faint cut on his throat, and he felt another warm drop trail the curve of his throat.  
“Give it to me. You don’t know what I’ve been through! This will change the world, alright? But at first, it will change my life.”  
“I know what you’ve been through, Lu." Haytham said with a silken tone to his voice that made Connor want to wash himself. "This can benefit us _both._ Take the knife down. I’ll come with you, okay? We can triumph over your brothers together; and then we'll use it for the benefit of _all.”_  
And still, she didn’t seem impressed by his charm. “Stop it. I’ll present this to my brothers along with you on a leash. I’m done with your games. For the last time: _Hand it over.”_  
Holding the box in his hands, Haytham looked at the two of them, and in the darkness of the crypt, his eyes seemed rather black than grey; his lips pressed together as he was ultimately faced with the choice between his son and the artifact he had been chasing after for years.  
_I can never outweigh the importance of something that could benefit everyone, if that's what he believes this thing does,_ it crossed Connor’s mind as he realized that Haytham wouldn’t ever choose him; of course he wouldn’t; he wasn't this important; just _repulsive;_ he was a burden; someone to take if there was no one else around; yes, nothing too serious, nothing too precious…  
Closing his eyes, he presented his throat and waited for the knife to cut deeper; to take away his worries once and for all; give him peace and take him to the dead.  
When he felt the increasing pressure of the blade on his skin, a deep calmness overtook him; and he wasn’t even angry at his father for leaving him again; for choosing something else over him; it just seemed that this was how it had always been and would always be.  
_“Don’t._ Lucrezia, don’t. Don't hurt him.” Haytham's voice sounded faint and defeated.  
And when Connor opened his eyes again, he felt the blade disappear from his throat as he was shoved forward. Stumbling into his father’s arms, it took him a moment to understand what had happened.  
With a sob, he buried his face in his father’s shirt as he felt the other’s arms around him; rubbing over his back soothingly and kissing the top of his head. He was dizzy and the headache still trampled on his thoughts; but there was also something good in him spreading; something that felt childlike and hopeful; valued, clean and loved.  
“Don’t untie him, Haytham; or I’m gonna shoot you both.”, he could hear Lucrezia’s strained voice and he heard her fumbling with the box; doubtlessly using the knife to pry it open.  
For a moment there was silence, and when Connor turned around to look at her, he realized that whatever was in the box wasn’t what they had been hoping for.  
Her dark, angry eyes moved up from the content of the box to glare at them. “Move aside!”, she commanded and gestured with the gun she had gotten off Haytham.  
Obeying, the two of them stepped aside as she searched the hollow space beneath the chambers; and carelessly removed bones to look in the chambers themselves; tightly gripping onto the gun while she looked for the artifact. Connor could feel Haytham’s alertness; doubtlessly waiting for a chance to overcome her.  
But before such a chance arose, she turned around and stared at the two of them.  
“Get going.”, she said, and something close to madness accompanied her voice.  
“We can still find it, Lucrezia.”, Haytham said pacifyingly as he and Connor got closer to the tunnel. The glow behind them moved as Lucrezia picked up the flashlight.  
“Yes, we will find it.”, she said angrily. “Not here, though. Now, get the fuck _moving.”_

The light of day was blinding when they stepped outside, and Connor couldn’t believe how beautiful and peaceful the Italian landscape looked like around them, when this day was filled with such fright. Two tourists were taking pictures of the ocean and the Sorrentine mainland in the distance, and when the three of them appeared from the chapel, they looked at them in horror; Connor with his bloodied throat; Haytham's shirt stained with his son’s blood and Lucrezia with the gun in her hand.  
Without a warning she raised said gun and fired it loosely into the direction of the tourists; who screamed and started running for their lives.  
“Well, now.”, Lucrezia said as the tourists had vanished. “Let’s make this quick, before the police arrives or something.”  
Looking back at her, Connor and Haytham still stood close; Haytham having one arm around his son; resting a hand on Connor’s shoulder.  
She waved around the gun and motioned for them to get going. Slowly, they made their way down from the chapel towards the exit of the archaeological area.  
“Stop.”  
They were on a small path leading towards the exit; to their right the ancient walls spread over the hilltop and to their left a large opening framed with small fir trees and aloe plants revealed a beautiful panorama view of the sea and the white steep cliffs leading down into the water; only from here one could truly understand how far above the waves they were.  
“Step over the balustrade.”, Lucrezia ordered, and the two of them looked at her with surprise and worry. “Go on.”  
“Lucrezia…”  
“Shut up. Just do as I say.”  
Haytham went first, helping Connor over. Lucrezia followed; her eyes not leaving the two of them and the gun always ready to intervene in case they tried to run away.  
The wind tugged at Connor’s hair unpleasantly, and the vertiginous height added to his anxiety considerably as he glanced around; careful not to stumble over the trees' roots and plants at his feet; knowing that a fall would be deadly for sure.  
“Get over here.” Lucrezia motioned for Haytham to step aside, and he did so unwillingly. She kept the gun pointed at Connor, and the young man’s heart beat hard in his chest because he knew where this was going.  
“You see, disobedient slaves and undesired guests were hurled over these very cliffs by order of Emperor Tiberius. Not far from here, there’s still a place called Tiberius’ leap, and guess why it’s called that.”, Lucrezia remarked with a stony face.  
“Lucrezia, I _beg_ you…”  
“Oh, yes, love, please show me your _begging_ face. I’m not gonna kill you, but if you want to keep all your fingers, just stay out of this. I’ll let you have another young lover, alright? I’m not in this for sex, you should know that. You can have other people, as you had before. Just this one is… too troublesome I’d say. Too attached maybe, and I’m not even sure who is more attached to whom here. He’s cute, I get it, but you can have some other boy to play with.”  
Her eyes flickered to Haytham who was visibly trying to think of _something,_ and then she clicked back the safety release of the gun.  
_“Jump.”  
_  
Connor took an unsteady step towards the cliff with wobbly knees; just looking down made him dizzy; seeing the tree adorned cliffs beneath him; swarming with seagulls and contrasting greatly against the deep blue of the sea.  
He looked back at Haytham and searched for his eyes. "Dad...", he let out helplessly; his voice being carried away by the wind, echoing his worries and his wish to stay alive. Maybe Haytham had still heard the faint cry, because something in his expression changed.  
"He really is my son."  
Connor could see how Lucrezia furrowed her brows, about to say something when Haytham continued. "I touched him for the first time when he was 14.”  
“Bullshit.” Lucrezia snorted, but there was something in her voice that betrayed it; and Connor couldn’t help but think back to the talk they had had in the car earlier.  
“It was on a camping trip with just the two of us. You know, the picture on my desk. I...” Haytham hesitated as he avoided Connor’s intense stare. When Lucrezia opened her mouth to shush him once more, he continued more determinedly.  
“I made him suck my cock. And I managed to get two fingers in his tight little ass. You know, he went along with it because he loved me. Because he loved his Daddy and wanted to be a good boy. And I took advantage of that. Afterwards, I told him that his mother would think he's repulsive if he told her about it; would think he's the dirty one for doing this with his own father.”  
_“Bullshit!”,_ Lucrezia repeated, but there was an angry undertone that revealed the impact of the words on her. Why she would care, Connor couldn’t grasp. And what Haytham was aiming for, he also didn’t know. And even though nothing of it was true, it still seemed to cut open old wounds within the young man; and he took a small step away from the cliff just to calm down his galloping heart; unnoticed by Lucrezia, who was focused on Haytham alone, even though the gun was still aimed at the young man in front of her.  
“He didn't say anything but his behavior gave away that something had happened, and of course his mother realized that I had done _something_ to him and left; left with him. After her _unfortunate_ death, Connor was forced to move in with me again when he was seventeen, and the first night, I had him.” Haytham bared his teeth, and if Connor hadn’t known better, he would have believed him.  
“Yes, I _fucked_ him; ravished his youthful _virgin_ body. Every day from then on. I made him my _toy._ Took him whenever I pleased, wherever I pleased. You know, at first, he cried a lot. Struggled when I would come at him-“  
“Stop talking.”, Lucrezia snapped, and swung around the gun; pointing it directly at Haytham, who didn’t seem to consider stopping.  
“But after a few months he stopped, and I was convinced I really had made him mine. He didn’t complain about the restraints anymore; about the toys… I could do whatever I wanted with him. It was _splendid._ But then, one day, I caught him with his coach; letting himself get fucked by that worthless piece of trash...” He smacked his lips and Connor tried to blink away the confusion; nauseous with the story, even though it wasn’t the truth. “Well, of course I was furious and punished him. Tied him up for a few days to make him understand there's no way out of it. He cried and plead… Said I was the only one he'd ever be looking at; that he wanted to be the only one for me; that he loved me. When I eventually let him go, he ran away. Fled to friends, and then escaped to boarding school where I couldn't get to him. After that, he moved into an apartment under a false name. But I found him…”  
Connor swallowed heavily, unable to protest as he saw Lucrezia’s hands shaking.  
“When he opened the door, it was sealed. I fully broke him. I fucked him until he wouldn't resist anymore, until he _needed_ it to feel anything." Haytham let out a little cruel laugh, letting Connor flinch and wonder why Haytham would do this; would paint himself in these cruel colors. But then his eyes met his father’s and he finally understood.  
Lucrezia was fully concentrated onto Haytham; her hands shakily clasping the gun with Connor unobserved behind her back.  
“That’s how he is, Lu. See, he would give his life for me, let you slit his throat without any complaints; because he’s _weak_ ; because I made him like this. Because without me, he’s _nothing;_ because all he wants now is to make Daddy love him and-“  
The moment Connor moved forward to tackle her down he heard the gun going off. The shot rang in his ears as he stumbled down with Lucrezia beneath him; seeing how the gun fell to the ground and toppled over the edge of the cliff; vanishing from his sight as he tried to wrestle with Lucrezia.  
Still bound by his hands, he was helpless as she eventually managed to push him off of her; and suddenly, Connor lost his balance; feeling how he tumbled backwards; wishing his hands were free as he saw the plants he could grab for halt around him; and then, for a moment, it felt like flying as he reached the edge of the cliff.

With a harsh halt, that feeling vanished as he was gripped tightly; his legs dangling over the cliff; hundreds of meters above the sea.  
Looking up with his heart racing and his mind spinning, he expected to see his father’s face, but instead he looked into Lucrezia’s brown eyes.  
When she pulled him back over the edge, he gasped for air, confused as of why she would save him after she had wanted him to jump mere minutes ago.  
Seeing Haytham on the ground, he immediately discarded those considerations and crawled closer; horrified to see more blood covering his father’s shirt and realizing that the shot had still found its target.  
“Dad!”, he gasped, leaning over the other’s motionless frame; tears blurring his sight as he struggled against the restraints and tried to find a sign of life.  
With a hiss, Lucrezia pulled him back.  
“He’s not worth it!”, she snapped as she shook the young man. “Stop it! He abused you! Let go of that bastard! I freed you of him, don’t you see that! Finish him! Take revenge, kid! Push him off the edge. Haven’t you heard him? He’s even proud to have broken you! He’s just like my brothers; just like them-“  
Only now Connor understood why Haytham had done this; why she had reacted so much to his appalling story. Cursing under his breath, he shook his head as if to clear it.  
“No! No…”, he brought out, sobs making it hard to speak. “He lied! He lied to get you distracted! I… I’m the one who always… who…” He sobbed. “He _didn’t...!”_  
And suddenly he felt like fourteen again; trapped in a horrible misunderstanding that he wasn’t brave enough to resolve; that just swallowed him whole before he had time to say anything.  
And when he took another deep breath and said those words he had hated himself for not saying almost ten years ago, it felt like a weight fell off his shoulders; like he finally could wash away that _dirt_ ; let the wind carry it away as it howled violently around them.  
“He didn’t touch me! D-during that camping trip, I would have _wanted_ him to touch me, b-because I realized that… that I loved him _so_ much that I wanted to be with him like that. I wished for him to touch me, but he _didn’t._ He didn’t abuse me; and he didn’t touch me when I came to live with him when I was seventeen. I w-would have wanted him to fuck me, you know, but he didn’t. He was trying his best; he wanted to do the... the right thing. And when we finally realized that we b-both want to be with each other, it was already s-so complicated.”  
Looking up at Lucrezia’s stony face, Connor motioned for her to free him of the belt and after a second of hesitation, she did so.  
“You’re so fucked up.”, she said as she backed away; holding tightly onto the balustrade before she got over it and vanished from Connor's sight. Confusion had been audible within her words; revealing that she didn’t know what to believe anymore; whether they were father and son, or lovers; whether their relationship was built upon abuse, or love.  
Wiping the tears from his face, Connor bent over his father; feeling for a pulse with shaky fingers.  
“Don’t leave me.”, he uttered with a shaky voice. “Don’t leave me again. I need you, do you hear me? I need you! I… I can’t lose you again, not for… forever.”  
With a groan, Haytham moved; his eyes fluttering open as Connor cupped his cheek; sobs still shaking him; panic making it hard to breathe; hard to focus and hard to think.  
“Hey, Connor…”

  
**_Epilogue_ **

Connor lay awake as he had so many evenings before; listening to the rain and the distant rumbling of thunder. His sleeping bag was tight but comfortable; and even though it wasn’t cold, he craved for more warmth. Their tent here in the North American forest was small; illuminated only dimly by an old oil lamp; its flickering light painting lively shadows on the tent's walls.  
Taking a deep breath, he knew that he had to wait just a moment longer; the anticipation making him nervous. Trying to distract himself from his already aching erection, he thought about everything that had worked out in his favor during the past months.  
Haytham had reluctantly reassigned his mission to a certain Irishman from his company, who he trusted most to trace the artifact to its current whereabouts; and maybe deal with Lucrezia while doing so. Connor guessed that he was still receiving updates now and then, and maybe even worked actively on this by providing the necessary code solutions; but there was no hunt for this apple standing between them anymore. Sometimes, he still wondered if Haytham would leave once it was found, but then he reminded himself of the moment in the crypt, remembering the feeling of being deemed more important than anything else, no matter how world-changing it was. No, Haytham wouldn’t leave again.  
His divorce from Lucrezia was finally through after long months of her being missing and the police investigating the shooting; and by now, Connor thought differently about her; just hoping that she could also find peace despite her past one day; find someone who loved her for who she was, not wanting to gain anything by being with her other than just that.  
Of course, not everything was resolved; and Connor had picked up therapy again after returning to the States, and during the past weeks they had looked for houses, but the one Connor had favored wasn't quite to Haytham's liking.  
Taking another deep breath, he listened to his heart beating hard in his chest, trying to calm down and remember those distant words sounding to him from far away.  
“It’s cold, Dad. Can I sleep in your sleeping bag as well?”, he asked quietly, holding his breath as he waited for an answer.  
Giving an affirming sound, Haytham wordlessly held his sleeping bag open for Connor to slip under it. The young man struggled to get out of his own bag and eventually cuddled close to his father; entering the warmth under the other’s sleeping bag that functioned as a blanket for the two men to fit under. It was warm and comfortable, and he muttered, “Thanks. It’s really warm.”; pressing his back close to his father’s bare chest.  
Haytham just gave another hum, putting an arm around Connor and pulling him closer. His breath waved hot over the young man’s neck, and Connor couldn’t help but shudder.  
“Are you sure…?” Haytham whispered, and his voice sounded rough.  
Just giving a wanting, impatient sound, Connor placed his hand over his father’s and guided it down towards his aching erection; pressing his ass back against the other’s crotch and thus answering the question.  
He could hear his father breathing in sharply and knew that there wouldn’t be any more such questions. The older man’s lips found Connor’s neck, and he pressed sloppy kisses on the bronze skin; letting Connor shudder when his breath waved coldly over the wet skin.  
Haytham’s hand ran over the bulging front of Connor’s boxer shorts; caressing his cock through the fabric and rubbing against it teasingly.  
“You’ll always be the only one for me, Connor.” Haytham’s breathy voice waved over the young man’s neck, and he could feel his father’s cock being rubbed against his ass slowly.  
Being unable to hold back a strangled moan, Connor was almost pushed over the edge by this alone; having a ten year old dream finally come true.  
Escaping his father’s grip for he didn’t want to come already, he turned around; embracing the other and pressing up close to him.  
Their lips crashed together, and Connor grinded his hips against the other’s; feeling needy and happy; loved and wanted. _Clean_ in his pure desire.  
Breaking away from their hungry kiss, Haytham grabbed Connor by his hair and pushed him downwards.  
“Be… be a good boy.”, he said, and Connor knew that he tried to remember what Connor had wished for him to say. “Don’t you want to make me feel good?”  
Mouthing at the other’s cock through the fabric of his shorts, Connor moaned and shuddered with want; being incredibly turned on by his father going along with this fantasy. “Yes, Dad.”, he moaned, unable to keep himself from reaching down and giving himself a few good strokes; pushing down his boxer shorts just a bit more.  
Haytham removed the blanket from their heated bodies and watched as Connor looked up at him with glassy eyes; reaching around himself and pressing his wet fingers against his entrance as he still mouthed at his father’s cock.  
Groaning, the older man reached down to push off his own boxer shorts just enough for the young man to be able to take his father’s cock into his mouth. Willingly parting his lips, Connor closed his eyes as he started to caress the other’s cock with his lips and tongue while he pushed into himself; effectively preparing himself for what was to come.  
A hand was curled into the young man’s dark hair, and Connor gave another lewd sound as he took in Haytham’s cock deep; feeling it at the back of his throat and trying to swallow around it so he wouldn’t have to gag.  
Moving in a faster pace he sucked slightly and moaned shamelessly; knowing that Haytham must feel the vibrations of his sounds even if he might not hear them.  
“C-connor…” His father’s breathy voice sounded strained, and Connor opened his eyes to see the other’s flushed cheeks; and for the first time since they had started having sex, he didn't look angry. “S-stop, I’m going t-to…”  
_I hardly ever come from just_ that _,_ it echoed in Connor’s mind as he continued to suck and lick; swallowing around his father’s cock as he took it in deep again; feeling how the other was pushed over the edge and came with a gasp.  
Trying to swallow as much as he could, Connor coughed and gasped for air as he released his father’s cock.  
Panting heavily, the two of them took a moment to recover, and then Connor crawled up; getting rid of his shorts as he climbed on top of the other; aware of his slick erection wetting the other’s stomach when Connor bowed down for a breathless kiss.  
Haytham wrapped his arms tightly around the young man, and Connor groaned as he rubbed his cock against the other’s skin without breaking their kiss.  
When Haytham’s one hand trailed down the curve of his back and eventually teased his entrance, Connor jerked up with a soft gasp; shuddering as he felt Haytham inserting two fingers into him; sliding them in and out in a sweet rhythm; stretching him gently as he moved them knowingly.  
Giving a few panted moans, Connor trembled as Haytham lifted up his head to lick over the young man’s nipples; nibbling at them and biting down on them teasingly.  
Connor could feel himself getting closer to the edge; unable to keep his hips from moving on their own; wanting to feel more friction between them; wanting to feel his father’s fingers deeper in him.  
Giving a sweet cry of please when he came, Connor sagged against the other; not aware of how heavy he was on top of him.  
Kissing his neck and cheek, Haytham seemed amused by the young man’s eagerness; patiently waiting for Connor to regain his breath. Once the young man did, he searched for his father’s lips in a slow kiss, sitting up again and bending down to catch his lips; not thinking about the stickiness between them as he reached for the lube. Only breaking the pleasant kiss to sit up more and slick his father’s cock, he wasn’t too surprised to find him hard again; not after watching Connor climax like this.  
When he raised his hips and aligned himself with the other’s cock, Connor only vaguely thought back to the time they had discussed this; had discussed doing it raw and how Connor wanted this whole scene repeated; promising that it would help him feel better.  
With a soft gasp, Connor banned every straight thought from his mind and moved down his hips to take in the other’s cock.  
Haytham was gripping onto his hips tightly; pushing him down further, until it felt like his insides were pleasantly filled out; having taken his father's cock in to the hilt.  
Panting, Connor remained like this for a moment; trembling because it felt so deep. Then, slowly, he raised his ass and released his father’s length a bit just to move down slowly again; feeling how the other’s slick cock slid into him again.  
Moaning lowly, he tried to pick up the pace slightly; feeling how hard he was again; dripping pre-cum on his father’s stomach.  
Haytham’s hand wandered down his back once; cupping Connor’s ass and spreading him as Haytham moved up in unison with the young man’s movements; adding to the rhythm of their bodies becoming one.  
Haytham was panting heavily and his expression was dark once more; it seemed harder for him to hold back like this; watching the entranced expression’s on his son’s face with desire. “I feel like I’m melting inside of you.”, he said with a vague hint of awe.  
Groaning, Connor clenched up around him and pushed himself down once more; twitching as he took in the other deep.  
“Such a good boy.”, Haytham muttered, looking up at Connor. The young man returned the gaze longingly with shaking hips; unable to keep them from moving.  
Then, with a sudden move, Haytham sat up without pulling away; even moving up his hips just a bit more; trying to brush past that sweet spot that turned the boy into a trembling mess in his arms.  
Giving a soft cry of pleasure and surprise, Connor arched his back and was almost pushed over the edge; shuddering as Haytham wrapped his arms around him and pressed close; placing sloppy kisses to the faint scars on Connor’s throat. Straddling his father’s lap now, Connor started to move again, and Haytham moved with him; pushing their pace further; finding a fast rhythm in their entangled embrace.  
Panting and moaning, Connor buried his head into his father’s shoulder not far from the nasty scar that Lucrezia’s bullet had left. And still, as Connor knew, hadn’t he pushed her, this might have gone differently.  
“Connor…” His father’s voice was breathless and rich; a tone that made Connor shiver. Haytham’s breath waved over his neck, and his lips brushed over the young man’s ear as he whispered, “I love you.”  
Unable to hold back, Connor arched his back and let out a soft sound of pleasure; spilling over his father’s chest as he came. Trembling, he remained in the other’s arms; willingly letting himself be pushed backwards to the ground on the blanket; and when Haytham continued to move, Connor just clasped the fabric beneath him tightly and remained in his blissful state as Haytham held onto his hips tightly and fucked him hard.  
Loving the sounds the older man let come over his lips so plentiful now, Connor glanced up at him with flushed cheeks and lips; loving the way Haytham looked at him; loving the way his body felt when they made love; and loving the way Haytham’s body felt so close to his’. He wanted his father to look at him more; share more of these moments in which they were together for what felt like a glimpse of pleasant eternity.  
When Haytham came, he bucked up once more; spending himself deep into his son’s body with a shudder. Pulling back to catch his breath, Haytham looked at the other, and Connor could see his eyes trail over the young man’s body; down to his entrance oozing with his father’s cum.  
“Is this how you imagined it?”, Haytham asked with an air of amusement.  
“No”, Connor muttered and it was his turn to be amused when he saw Haytham’s surprised expression. “It was better.”, he added as he sat up and crashed their lips together once more; thinking that the night was still young and there was plenty of time to indulge in just this.  
Breaking away from their hungry kiss, Haytham eyed the other; his fingers tracing the young man’s features. Connor knew that he thought back to those days almost exactly ten years ago, and he wondered if Haytham could even recognize him as the child from then.  
But he was, and as he watched his father reach for his watch, he wanted to say many things. He wanted to thank him; wanted to say that this had been the last cathartic moment he had needed to fully let go of what had happened; to accept the past as it was and look into a future alongside his loved one. Instead, he just felt his heart overflow with affection and wonder.  
“It’s past twelve.” Haytham put aside the watch and smiled; handing an envelope to the young man that Connor hadn't noticed earlier. With mild surprise he took it from the other's hand and produced a picture from it. In the faint light it took him a moment to recognize the house they had visited a few week earlier; it was the house that Connor had favored to be their new home.  
Looking at his father questiongly, his mind was spinning.  
"I made the first deposit earlier today. It's ours." He reached out for Connor and pulled him into his arms, whispering,  
“Happy twenty-fourth birthday, Connor.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it!!  
> Thank you so much for reading and staying with me!! <3 I really hope you liked it and I'd be very, very happy about kudos / comments. uwu


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